THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


GIFT  OF 

Mrs.  Marion  Randall  Parsons 


TENSION 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

HXW  YORK  •   BOSTON  •   CHICAGO  •  DALLAS 
ATLANTA  •   SAN  FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  LIMITED 

LONDON  •   BOMBAY  •   CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  LTD. 

TORONTO 


TENSION 


BY 

E.  M.  DELAFIELD 

Author  of  "Zella  Sees  Herself,"  "The  Pelicans," 
"Consequences,"  etc. 


H3eto  gorfe 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

1920 

All  rights  reserved 


COPYRIGHT.  1920, 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published,  October,  1920 


I 


R6I 

0)358 


TO  SUPPLEMENT 

THE  OFFERING  OF  A  VERY  EARLY  AND 

UNFINISHED  EFFORT,  OF  WHICH 

THE  DEDICATION  RAN: 

"TO  MY  MATERNAL  PARENT" 


M816S40 


TENSION 


I 

"  AUNTIE  IRIS  has  written  a  book !  " 

"A  book!  "  echoed  both  auditors  of  the  announce- 
ment, in  keys  varying  between  astonishment  and 
dismay. 

"  Yes,  and  it's  going  to  be  published,  and  put  into  a 
blue  cover,  and  sold,  and  Auntie  Iris  is  going  to  make 
heaps  and  heaps  of  money!  " 

"  What  is  it  to  be  called?  "  said  Lady  Rossiter  rather 
gloomily,  fixing  an  apprehensive  eye  on  the  exuberant 
niece  of  the  authoress. 

"  It's  called,  '  Why,  Ben! '  and  it's  a  Story  of  the 
Sexes,"  glibly  quoted  that  young  lady,  unaware  of  the 
shock  inflicted  by  this  brazen  announcement,  delivered 
at  the  top  of  her  squeaky,  nine-year-old  voice. 

"  Good  God !  "  said  Sir  Julian  Rossiter. 

His  wife  said,  "Hush,  Julian!"  in  a  rather  auto- 
matic aside  and  turned  again  to  the  herald  of  "  Why, 
Ben!"  now  hopping  exultantly  round  and  round  the 
break  fast- table. 

"  Did  you  get  a  letter  from  Aunt  Iris  this  morning, 
Ruthie?" 

"  Daddy  did,  and  he  said  it  was  a  secret  before,  but 
now  the  publishers  had  accepted  the  book  and  every- 
body might  know,  and  I  said  —  I  said " 


2  TENSION 

Ruthie  consecrated  the  briefest  possible  instant  to 
drawing  a  sufficiently  deep  breath  to  enable  her  to  re- 
sume her  rapid,  high-pitched  narrative.  "  I  said,  '  Me 
and  Peekaboo  must  come  and  tell  you  and  Sir  Julian, 
because  you'd  be  so  pleased  and  so  excited,  and  so 
surprised ! ' 

"  Is  your  little  brother  here  as  well  ?  "  said  Sir 
Julian,  gazing  distastefully  through  his  eye-glasses  at 
Ruthie,  heated,  breathless,  hopping  persistently  on  one 
leg,  and  with  a  general  air  of  having  escaped  from  the 
supervision  of  whoever  might  have  charge  of  her  morn- 
ing toilette  before  that  toilette  had  received  even  the 
minimum  of  attention.  Ruthie  cast  a  look  of  artless 
surprise  about  her. 

"  I  thought  he  was  here.  He  came  with  me  —  but 
you  know  how  he  dawdles.  He  may  be  still  in  the 
drive." 

A  slow  fumbling  at  the  door-handle  discredited  the 
supposition. 

"  There  he  is !  "  shrieked  Ruthie  joyfully,  and  vio- 
lently turning  the  handle  of  the  door.  "  Ow!  I  can't 
open  the  door!  " 

"Of  course  you  can't,  if  he  is  holding  the  handle  at 
the  other  side.  Let  go." 

"  He  won't  be  able  to  open  it  himself,  he  never  can 
—  and  besides,  his  hands  are  all  sticky,  I  know,  be- 
cause he  upset  the  treacle  at  breakfast.  Let  go, 
Peekaboo !  "  bawled  his  sister  through  the  keyhole. 

"  H'sh  —  sh.  Don't  shriek  like  that,  he  can  hear 
quite  well." 

"  But  he  won't  let  go " 

"  Come  away  from  the  door,  Ruthie,  and  don't 
make  that  noise." 


TENSION  3 

Lady  Rossiter  herself  went  to  the  door  of  which 
the  handle  was  being  ineffectually  jerked  from  with- 
out, and  said  with  that  peculiar  distinctness  of  utter- 
ance characteristic  of  exasperation  kept  consciously 
under  control: 

"  Is  that  you,  Ambrose  ?  Turn  the  handle  towards 
you  —  no,  not  that  way,  towards  you,  I  said  —  right 
round " 

"  Turn  it  towards  you,  Peekaboo !  "  shrieked  Ruthie, 
suddenly  thrusting  her  head  under  Lady  Rossiter 's 
arm. 

"  Be  quiet,  Ruthie.     There,  that's  right." 

The  door  slowly  opened,  and  a  rather  emaciated, 
seven-year-old  edition  in  knickerbockers  of  the  stal- 
wart Ruthie  advanced  languidly  into  the  room. 

"  How  do  you  do  ? "  he  remarked,  extending  a 
treacle-glazed  hand  for  the  morning  greetings  entirely 
omitted  by  his  excited  elder  sister. 

"  Good  morning,  Ambrose  dear.  You're  paying  us 
a  very  early  visit.'' 

"  Auntie  Iris  has  written  a  book !  "  announced  Am- 
brose, more  deliberately  than,  but  quite  as  loudly 
and  distinctly  as,  his  senior.  "  And  it's  called,  '  Why, 
Ben!  A  Story  of  the  Sexes.'  " 

"  Yes,  dear,  Ruthie  told  us,"  said  Lady  Rossiter,  a 
rather  repressed  note  in  her  voice  indicating  a  renewed 
sense  of  outrage  at  the  singular  title  selected  by  Am- 
brose's aunt  for  her  maiden  attempt  at  literature. 

Ambrose  turned  pallid  eyes  of  fury  behind  a  large 
pair  of  spectacles  upon  his  sister. 

"  You  said  you  wouldn't  tell  them  till  I  came.  .  .  . 
It's  very,  very  mean  of  you.  .  .  .  I'll  tell  Daddy  the 
manute  I  get  home.  ...  I  ...  I  ..." 


4  TENSION 

His  objurgations  became  incoherent,  through  none 
the  less  expressive  for  that,  and  gaining  steadily  in 
volume  as  he  sought,  in  vain,  to  overpower  the  torrent 
of  self-defence  instantly  emitted  from  Ruthie's  lungs 
of  brass. 

Sir  Julian  Rossiter  laid  down  his  paper,  opened  the 
French  window,  and  thrust  both  his  visitors  into  the 
drive. 

"  Bolt  the  window,  Julian,"  said  his  wife  hastily. 
"  And  I  will  tell  Horber  not  to  let  them  in  at  the  front 
door.  Much  as  I  love  children,  I  can't  have  them 
rushing  in  on  us  at  breakfast;  it's  really  too  much." 

"  Do  you  suppose  all  their  morning  calls  end  like 
this?"  remarked  Sir  Julian,  as  he  watched  their  de- 
parting guests  stagger  down  the  drive,  Ambrose's  large 
head  still  shaking  with  his  wrath,  and  the  voice  of  his 
sister  still  audibly  browbeating  and  calling  him  "  Peek- 
aboo." 

"  Why  does  she  call  her  brother  by  that  senseless  and 
revolting  nickname?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  I  think  it's  a  nursery  relic,  and 
dates  from  the  days  of  their  unfortunate  mother." 

"  The  dipsomaniac?  " 

Lady  Rossiter  said  nothing.  She  was  aware  that 
Mrs.  Easter's  enforced  retirement  into  a  home  for 
inebriates  was  an  ancient  scandal,  and  that  Julian 
had  only  introduced  a  reference  to  it  in  the  idle  hope 
of  trapping  her  into  disregarding  her  favourite  touch- 
stone in  conversation  —  "  Is  it  kind,  is  it  wise,  is  it 
true?" 

Unlike  his  wife,  but  in  common  with  many  people 
less  apt  at  analysing  the  idiosyncrasy  than  himself,  Sir 
Julian  habitually  preferred  silence  to  speech,  unless  he 


TENSION  5 

had  anything  unpleasant  to  say.  It  was  one  of  the 
many  differences  which  did  not  make  for  unity  be- 
tween them. 

"  I  wonder,"  Sir  Julian  presently  observed,  "  what 
publisher  is  undertaking  the  responsibility  of  '  Why, 
Ben ! '  How  exactly  like  Auntie  Iris  to  choose  such 
a  preposterous  name,  and  to  call  it  '  A  Story  of  the 
Sexes '  into  the  bargain !  She  can't  be  more  than 
twenty." 

"  It  rather  made  me  shudder  when  those  two  poor 
children  spoke  the  name  so  glibly.  '  A  Story  of  the 
Sexes '  —  imagine  their  knowing  such  a  word  at  all, 
at  their  age !  " 

Sir  Julian  shrugged  his  shoulder.  "  Nothing  could 
surprise  me,  from  the  egregious  Ruthie.  I  suppose 
I  shall  have  to  congratulate  Mark  Easter  on  his  half- 
sister's  achievement  this  morning." 

"  Are  you  going  to  the  College  ?  " 

"  I  must.  There  is  a  meeting  of  the  directors,  and 
I  have  to  take  the  chair." 

"Not  a  General  Committee  meeting?"  said  Lady 
Rossiter  quickly. 

"  No,  Edna,"  replied  her  husband,  with  a  great 
finality.  "Not  a  General  Committee  meeting." 

If  he  did  not  add  an  ejaculatory  thanksgiving  aloud 
to  the  statement,  his  wife  was  none  the  less  aware  that 
he  regarded  with  the  extreme  of  disfavour  her  presence 
at  the  general  meetings  of  the  committee  which  pre- 
sided over  that  venture  known  as  the  "  Commercial 
and  Technical  College  for  the  South- West  of  Eng- 
land." On  this  reflection,  Lady  Rossiter  infused  as 
much  proprietary  interest  as  possible  into  the  tone  of 
her  next  enquiry. 


6  TENSION 

X 

"  Have  we  got  a  Lady  Superintendent  yet  ?  I  can't 
bear  to  think  of  all  my  girls  without  a  woman  to  look 
after  them.  There  are  so  many  little  things  for  which 
women  need  a  woman." 

"  One  of  the  subjects  before  the  meeting  to-day  is 
to  discuss  an  application  for  the  post.  Fuller  thinks 
he  has  found  some  one." 

Edna  Rossiter  raised  her  well-marked,  dark  eye- 
brows. 

"  Surely  Mr.  Fuller  is  hardly  qualified  to  judge?  " 

"  Probably  not.  That's  why  the  question  is  to  be 
laid  before  the  directors/'  said  her  husband  drily. 

Lady  Rossiter,  tall  and  beautiful,  with  the  maturity 
of  a  woman  whom  the  years  had  left  with  auburn 
hair  unfaded  and  opaque  white  skin  almost  unlined, 
moved  restlessly  about  the  room. 

Sir  Julian,  aware  instantly  that  she  was  anxious  to 
pursue  the  subject,  perversely  remained  silent  behind 
the  newspaper. 

"  Do  you  know  anything  about  this  woman  ?  Is 
she  a  lady?" 

"  I  have  not  the  least  idea." 

"Is  she  from  the  West  Country?" 

"  She  writes  from  London." 

"  Ah,  our  Devonians  won't  take  to  her  if  she's  a 
Cockney.  I  should  prefer  some  one  de  nous  autres, 
Julian." 

"  So  she  may  be,  for  all  we  know." 

"You  had  better  tell  me  her  name,  Julian." 

"Why?"  enquired  Sir  Julian  childishly,  and  also 
disconcertingly. 

"Why?"  echoed  his  wife,  momentarily  non- 
plussed. 


TENSION  7 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  with  black- fringed, 
amber-coloured  eyes. 

"Why  not?"  she  demanded  at  last. 

"  It  would  convey  nothing  more  to  you  than  to  the 
rest  of  us." 

"  Oh,  the  perversity  of  man !  "  cried  Lady  Rossiter 
playfully.  "  Here  am  I  backing  up  the  great  venture 
heart  and  soul,  knowing  every  member  of  the  staff 
individually  and  offering  prizes  to  every  class  in  every 
subject,  and  even  putting  all  my  savings  into  the  con- 
cern —  and  then  I'm  not  allowed  to  hear  what  the 
high  and  mighty  directors  are  going  to  talk  about! 
Really,  Julian,  you  men  are  very  childish  sometimes." 

"  She  is  a  Miss  Marchrose." 

"Marchrose!" 

Sir  Julian,  perceiving  recognition  in  the  tone  of  the 
exclamation,  and  recollecting  his  own  prediction  that 
the  name  would  convey  nothing  to  his  wife,  looked 
annoyed. 

"  It  is  a  most  uncommon  name." 

Julian  carefully  refrained  from  questioning. 

"  I  told  you  I  might  know  something  about  her ! 
The  girl  who  jilted  poor  Clarence  Isbister  in  that  abom- 
inable way  was  a  Miss  Marchrose." 

"  It  doesn't  seem  probable  that  this  girl  could  have 
any  connection  with  the  woman  who  jilted  your  cousin 
Clarence;  she  is  a  certified  teacher  of  shorthand  and 
typewriting." 

"Well,  Clarence's  girl  was  nobody  at  all,  and  she 
was  older  than  he,  poor  boy  —  the  Isbisters  were  not 
at  all  pleased  about  it,  I  remember.  But  they'd  made 
up  their  minds  to  it,  and  it  was  all  arranged,  and  then 
came  this  thunderbolt." 


8  TENSION 

"If  it  was  such  an  unpopular  engagement,  the 
Isbisters  may  owe  her  a  debt  of  gratitude  for  throwing 
him  over." 

"  Ah,  it  was  more  than  that.  Don't  you  remember, 
Julian  ?  They'd  been  engaged  six  weeks,  and  Clarence 
was  like  a  lunatic  about  her,  and  simply  made  his 
father  and  mother  consent  to  it  all,  and  they  kept  on 
saying  the  girl  wasn't  good  enough  for  him,  and 
didn't  seem  to  care  for  him  much.  And  then  he  had 
that  appalling  hunting  smash." 

"  I  remember,"  said  Sir  Julian,  "  when  they  thought 
he  was  going  to  be  paralysed  for  the  rest  of  his  life, 
poor  chap." 

"  So  he  was,  from  the  waist  downwards,  for  nearly 
a  year,  and  all  the  doctors  said  that  his  recovery  was 
a  perfect  miracle.  But  when  he  was  still  helpless, 
and  nobody  knew  if  he  had  to  be  an  invalid  or  not, 
he  offered  to  release  Miss  Marchrose  from  the  en- 
gagement —  and  she  gave  him  up." 

"  H'm,"  said  Julian  noncommittally. 

"  There  have  been  women,"  said  Lady  Rossiter,  with 
tears  in  her  eyes,  and  in  her  voice  that  peculiar 
emotional  quality  which  indicates  that  the  general  is 
merely  being  used  to  indicate  the  particular,  "there 
have  been  women  who  have  waited  all  their  lives  long 
for  just  such  an  opportunity  of  giving/' 

"  On  the  whole,  I  am  of  opinion  that  the  majority 
of  fiances  would  prefer  not  to  provide  the  oppor- 
tunity." 

"  Ah,  Julian,  it's  easy  enough  for  you  to  be  cynical. 
But  to  me  it's  simply  inconceivable  —  how  she  could 
do  it.  How  any  woman  could  be  so  utterly  heart- 
less  " 


TENSION  9 

"  Didn't  Clarence  Isbister  marry  somebody  else  last 
year?" 

"  Thank  God,  yes." 

Lady  Rossiter  was  always  ready,  in  a  reverent  and 
uplifted  manner,  to  render  verbal  recognition  to  her 
Maker.  "Thank  God,  it  didn't  destroy  his  faith  in 
women.  He  married  a  true,  pure,  sweet,  loving  girl 
—  and  one  in  his  own  class  of  life  —  just  a  well-bred 
English  maiden." 

"  And  what  happened  to  the  other  one  —  Miss 
Marchrose?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  but  she  was  very  badly  off,  and  had 
been  teaching  when  Clarence  met  her  —  of  course,  it 
was  the  money  and  position  that  made  her  accept  him, 
one  supposes." 

"  Only  the  price  was  too  high  when  it  included  at- 
tendance on  an  invalid?"  suggested  Sir  Julian,  with 
a  malicious  satisfaction  in  thus  encouraging  oblivion 
of  the,  "  Is  it  kind,  is  it  wise,  is  it  true?  "  axiom. 

Perhaps  a  similar  recollection  flashed  rather  tardily 
across  Lady  Rossiter's  mind,  for  she  replied  with  cir- 
cumspection : 

"  God  forbid  that  I  should  judge  another !  But 
one  holds  Love  so  infinitely  sacred,  that  it  is  unbeliev- 
able that,  if  she  had  once  known  it,  she  could  have 
profaned  it  so." 

"  I  remember  now ;  we  heard  about  it  at  the  time. 
Wasn't  young  Clarence  very  much  cut  up?" 

"  Poor  boy !  He  took  it  very  hard.  Don't  you 
remember  ?  —  his  nurse  came  to  me  last  year  when  I 
had  influenza,  and  of  course  she  talked  —  they  always 
do " 

"  So  long  as  they  find  anyone  to  listen." 


io  TENSION 

"  Do  you  know,  Julian,  that  after  she  had  thrown 
him  over,  they  could  do  nothing  with  him  ?  The  nurse 
told  me  herself  that  they  thought  he  was  going  mad. 
He  actually  beat  his  head  against  the  wall  of  the  bed- 
room in  the  nursing-home." 

"How  sensible!" 

In  the  face  of  this  reverend  and  sympathetic  com- 
ment, Lady  Rossiter  not  unnaturally  ceased  the  recital 
of  her  relative's  unfortunate  affaire  du  cceur. 

"  I  suppose  if  this  turns  out  to  be  the  same  woman, 
you  will  advise  the  directors  to  refuse  her  applica- 
tion?" 

"  On  what  grounds  ?  We  did  not  advertise  for  a 
Lady  Superintendent  of  undeviating  constancy  and 
infinite  capacity  for  self-sacrifice.  If  she  is  a  woman 
of  business  and  has  the  experience  necessary,  I 
really  don't  see  how  I  can  bring  it  up  against  her  that 
she  once  gave  the  chuck  to  Clarence  Isbister  and  was 
responsible  for  his  beating  his  head  against  the  walls 
of  his  nursing-home." 

"  I  am  only  a  woman,  Julian,"  said  Lady  Rossiter 
incontrovertibly,  but  with  a  certain  pathetic  smile 
which  she  reserved  for  that  particular  statement,  "  but 
I  somehow  don't  like  to  think  that  the  Superintendent 
who  is  to  look  after  the  staff  to  whom  the  girls  and 
women  and  boys  whom  I  have  grown  to  know,  will 
turn  to  —  that  she  has  no  higher  ideal  of  Life  than 
poor  Clarence's  Miss  Marchrose." 

"  Most  probably  it  is  not  the  same  person  at  all." 

"  I  could  remember  her  Christian  name,  if  I  were 
to  think  a  minute.  .  .  ." 

"  Then  please  don't,  Edna.     I  have  not  the  slightest 


TENSION  ii 

wish  to  connect  her  with  the  Clarence  drama,  if  it 
should  turn  out  to  be  the  same  woman.  In  fact,  I 
had  much  better  not  know  it." 

"  It  began  with  an  '  L,'  I'm  almost  sure,"  said 
Lady  Rossiter,  unheeding. 

"  I  hear  the  car,"  said  her  husband,  rising  hastily. 

"  Laura  —  Lilian  —  Lena  —  Lucy  —  Louisa.  ...  It 
was  Pauline,  Julian  —  I  remember  it  now." 

"  I  have  not  the  least  idea  what  the  Superintendent's 
Christian  name  may  be,  Edna."  Sir  Julian  went  into 
the  hall.  "  I  shall  not  come  back  to  lunch.  What 
time  do  you  want  the  car  this  afternoon?" 

"  Oh,  that  doesn't  matter,"  declared  Lady  Rossiter 
brightly.  "  Don't  think  of  that,  dear.  It's  only  my 
nature-class  this  afternoon,  you  know,  and  I  can  quite 
well  walk  down  to  the  meeting-place.  It's  only  at 
Duckpool  Cove.  I  want  the  class  to  see  some  of  those 
wonderful  effects  in  sepia  and  green  in  the  rock-pools 
when  the  tide  is  out." 

Sir  Julian  made  the  unwonted  effort  of  restraining 
a  strong  inclination  to  ask  whether  the  class  could  not 
witness  these  natural  phenomena  unchaperoned  by 
their  president. 

"  I  will  send  the  car  back,  then.    I  shall  walk  home." 

"  As  you  like,  but  it  really  isn't  necessary." 

Sir  Julian  began  to  pull  on  his  driving-gloves. 

"  Don't  forget,  Julian,  to  say  something  about 
'  Why,  Ben ! '  to  Mark  Easter.  I  suppose  he  will  be 
pleased.  And  couldn't  one  —  without  hurting  his  feel- 
ings, of  course  —  say  something  about  the  children 
being  up  and  about  rather  early  ?  I  mean  to  say,  I'm 
fond  of  the  little  things,  when  Ruthie  behaves  and 


12  TENSION 

Ambrose  doesn't  whine,  and  they  don't  quarrel  —  but 
we  can't  have  them  getting  into  the  habit  of  running 
in  and  out  of  the  house  at  breakfast-time." 

"Heaven  forbid!" 

"  Well,  try  and  say  something,  if  you  can." 

"  I'll  see." 

Sir  Julian  took  his  place  at  the  steering-wheel. 

He  was  a  tall,  thin  man,  ten  years  older  than  his 
wife,  his  dark  hair  already  sparse  upon  the  crown 
of  his  head,  his  clean-shaven  hatchet  face  wearing  an 
habitual  look  of  sardonic  melancholy.  His  dark  eyes, 
set  in  a  network  of  wrinkles,  betrayed  humour,  but, 
nevertheless,  they  seldom  smiled. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  winding,  shady  drive  he  turned 
the  car  out  of  the  stone  gateway  and  on  to  the  high- 
road. A  hundred  yards  further  on  he  stopped  in 
front  of  a  small  slate-roofed  villa  standing  in  an  en- 
closure of  raggedly-growing  laurel  hedge  and  untidy 
fencing,  of  which  half  the  wooden  palings  were  tumb- 
ling down. 

At  the  first  sound  of  the  horn  hooting  an  announce- 
ment of  arrival,  the  small,  pretentious-looking  front 
door  burst  open,  and  Miss  and  Master  Easter  pre- 
cipitated themselves  down  the  garden-path,  vociferat- 
ing greetings  in  unresentfully  complete  oblivion  of  their 
recent  unceremonious  ejection  at  the  hands  of  their 
neighbour. 

"  Is  your  father  ready?  " 

"  Coming  this  minute,"  said  Ruthie,  and  added  in 
a  sudden  falsetto,  designed  to  penetrate  to  an  upper 
window  of  the  villa,  "  Aren't  you,  Daddy?" 

"  I'll  sound  the  horn  to  let  him  know  you're 
ready,"  volunteered  Ambrose,  outstretching  a  pair  of 


TENSION  13 

hands,  noted  with  disgust  by  Sir  Julian  as  displaying 
the  identical  traces  of  syrup  proclaimed  by  his  sister 
an  hour  ago. 

"  No,  Peekaboo!     Not  you  —  me!" 

"  Neither  of  you,"  said  Sir  Julian  succinctly. 

"  May  I  get  up  beside  you  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Will  you  take  me  into  Culmouth  too?     Oh,  do!  " 

"  Certainly  not.     You  are  too  dirty." 

"  There,  Peekaboo,"  said  Ruthie,  with  a  sudden 
access  of  extreme  virtue.  "What  did  I  tell  you? 
I've  washed,  Sir  Julian." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it." 

"What's  that?" 

"  Don't  touch.     It's  the  foot-brake." 

"What's  a  foot-brake?" 

"Is  it  a  nice   foot-brake?" 

"Do  you  like  having  a  foot-brake?" 

"  Have  all  motor-cars  got  foot-brakes  ?  " 

"  Does  Daddy  like  foot-brakes?  " 

The  extreme  idiocy  of  the  questions  launched  at 
him  drew  forth  a  stifled  ejaculation  from  the  owner  of 
the  foot-brake,  but  Ruthie  and  Ambrose  received  no 
further  enlightenment  on  the  subject  of  their  enquiries. 

"Here's  Daddy!" 

"  Good  morning,  Sir  Julian.  Sorry  to  have  kept 
you." 

"  Good  morning." 

"  Go  into  the  house,  children.  Sarah  is  looking  for 
you." 

"  Oh,  she  wants  to  wash  my  hands,"  aggrievedly  said 
the  boy. 

"  Get  under  the  laurels,  flat,  and  I'll  run  and  say 


14  TENSION 

that  Daddy's  taken  you  in  the  motor  to  Culmouth," 
suggested  his  sister  with  great  readiness. 

Mark  Easter  made  no  slightest  attempt  to  cope  with 
his  offsprings'  ingenious  admixture  of  uncleanliness, 
deceit  and  disobedience. 

He  took  his  place  beside  Sir  Julian  and  the  car 
started  forward. 

"  I'm  afraid  those  brats  of  mine  came  up  at  an 
unearthly  hour  to  disturb  you  this  morning.  I  had 
no  idea  where  they  were,  or  I'd  have  fetched  them 
back." 

"  They  didn't  stay  long,"  said  Sir  Julian,  with  per- 
fect truth. 

"  The  fact  is,  Lady  Rossiter  is  much  too  good  to 
them.  But  I'll  see  it  doesn't  happen  again.  They 
were  rather  beyond  themselves  this  morning." 

Mark  hesitated  and  Sir  Julian  waited,  rather  amused 
to  hear  how  his  simple,  straightforward  agent  and 
man  of  business  would  explain  the  cause  of  his  chil- 
dren's objectionable  upliftedness. 

"  I  daresay  they  told  you  I  had  a  letter  from  my 
sister  this  morning.  It  seems  that  she's  written  a 
novel,  and  Messrs.  Blade  have  agreed  to  publish  it. 
Of  course,  she's  very  delighted  about  it,  and  asked 
me  to  tell  the  kids,  and  the  idea  somehow  took  hold 
of  them.  I  don't  see  quite  why  it  should  appeal  to 
them  so  much,  but  you  know  how  excitable  children 
are." 

"  Have  you  read  the  book  ?  " 

"  Good  Lord,  no !  I  never  took  her  scribbling  se- 
riously." 

Mark  took  off  his  cap  and  let  the  wind  ruffle  up  his 
brown  hair  and  moustache.  His  blue  eyes  laughed, 


TENSION  15 

while  his  face  was  still  screwed  up  into  a  look  of  per- 
plexity. 

"  She's  given  it  a  very  odd  name.  I  daresay  the 
children  told  you." 

"  Yes.     They  did." 

"  I  hope  it's  proper,  I'm  sure,"  said  Mark  Easter 
doubtfully.  "  They  say  that  girls  always  write  the 
most  improper  books.  I  suppose  because  they  don't 
know  what  they're  talking  about." 

"  I  daresay  it's  innocent  enough." 

Mark  repeated  thoughtfully,  "  It  seems  an  odd 
thing  to  call  a  book,  '  Why,  Ben ! '  but  I  don't  mind 
saying  that  I  wish  she  hadn't  added  that  it  was  a 
story  of  the  sexes  —  and  the  worst  of  it  is  that  the 
children  have  got  hold  of  it,  and  I'm  afraid  that  we 
shall  never  hear  the  last  of  it." 

Sir  Julian,  feeling  quite  unable  to  suggest  an  opti- 
mistic alternative,  wisely  abandoned  the  subject. 


II 

THE  College  stood  not  far  from  Culmouth  Cathe- 
dral, the  biggest  building  of  the  many  that  surrounded 
the  open  grass  patch  of  the  Cathedral  Green. 

It  was  a  restored  Georgian  house,  well  in  keeping 
with  its  surroundings,  and  with  a  square  paved  court 
at  the  back  shaded  by  immense  elm-trees. 

Julian  Rossiter  always  went  up  the  shallow  stone 
steps  that  led  to  the  big  green  double  door  with  a 
sense  of  satisfaction. 

The  satisfaction,  however,  from  an  artistic  point  of 
view,  diminished  sensibly  and  at  an  ever-increasing 
rate  as  he  penetrated  to  the  inside  of  the  dignified 
red  and  white  exterior. 

The  large  square  hall  was  paved  with  uncovered 
stones,  and  surrounded  by  doors  of  varnished  deal, 
each  bearing  an  announcement  in  staring  white  letters. 

"  Nearly  eleven  o'clock,"  said  Mark  Easter.  "  Do 
you  want  to  look  in  at  the  classes,  Sir  Julian?  Fuller 
is  probably  giving  a  lesson  till  eleven." 

Sir  Julian  signed  assent,  and  the  two  men  turned 
to  the  stairs,  also  of  uncarpeted  stone. 

On  the  first  floor,  which  produced  the  same  aspect 
of  chilly  cleanliness,  a  door  was  held  open  from  the 
inside  by  a  wooden  kitchen  chair,  revealing  the  inte- 
rior of  Classroom  No.  V.,  which  bore  the  white- 
lettered  announcement,  "  Demonstration  Room." 

A  monotonous  female  voice,  raised  to  a  high,  ex- 

16 


TENSION  17 

pressionless  monotone,  came  from  beside  the  large 
blackboard  facing  a  double  row  of  desks  and  forms. 

"  Gay  lengthened  for  the  final  syllable  ture  — 
li-ga-ture.  Through  the  line  for  a  third-place  vowel. 
Is  that  quite  clear? 

An  expressionless  murmur  of  assent  came  in  reply. 

"  Once  again  then,  please,  and  without  putting  in 
the  vowels.  Are  you  ready?  Take  the  same  words 
down  again  and  the  vowels  to  be  indicated  by  the  plac- 
ing of  the  outline." 

"  Aperture  —  adventure  —  ligature  — - — " 

"  Classroom  pretty  nearly  full,"  said  Mark  under 
his  breath.  "  There  are  always  more  students  of  short- 
hand than  anything  else." 

"Who's  giving  the  dictation?" 

"  Miss  Farmer." 

"  It's  an  uneducated  pronunciation.  I  wish  we  could 
get  a  better  class  of  teacher." 

'  Young  Cooper  is  pretty  good.  He  takes  French 
and  accountancy  and  book-keeping." 

"Cooper  has  two  gifts  to  a  degree  which  I  have 
never  seen  equalled,"  Sir  Julian  said  grimly.  "  He 
has  a  genius  for  extracting  a  personal  application 
from  everything  he  hears  or  sees,  and  he  is  firmly 
convinced  that  his  every  action,  trivial  or  otherwise, 
is  worthy  of  comment." 

Five  minutes  later  an  opportunity  presented  itself 
for  immediate  verification  of  this  pleasing  summary. 

Brisk,  snub-nosed  and  sandy-haired,  Cooper  emerged 
bustling  from  "  No.  II.,  Book-keeping,"  just  as  Mark 
and  Sir  Julian  turned  away  from  No.  V. 

"  Good  morning,  Sir  Julian.  Good  morning.  I 
thought  you'd  be  in  to-day." 


i8  TENSION 

"Is  Fuller  disengaged?" 

"I  think  so  —  let  me  consult  my  watch."  Cooper 
shot  into  view  a  rather  bony  wrist  with  a  large  watch 
on  it.  "  I  see  by  my  wrist-watch  that  it's  just  on 
eleven.  Let  me  pop  it  out  of  sight  again.  Fuller 
will  be  in  his  room,  I  fancy,  but  I'll  go  and  find  him 
at  once,  Sir  Julian,  and  tell  him  you're  here.  I'm 
just  on  my  way  down  now,  to  put  these  books  away. 
I'll  look  into  Fuller's  room  on  my  way  past." 

"  Thanks,"  said  Julian  laconically. 

Cooper  hastened  ahead  of  them,  murmuring  as  he 
went: 

"  I'll  just  give  a  knock  on  Fuller's  door,  and  look 
in  to  say  Sir  Julian's  here,  and  then  I  can  get  rid  of  all 
these  books  .  .  .  down  the  stairs,  and  one  hand  on 
the  books  so  that  they  don't  slip  from  under  my 
arm  .  .  ." 

In  an  incredibly  short  space  of  time  he  had  sped  up 
the  stairs  again  and  made  the  rather  self-evident  an- 
nouncement : 

"  Run  up  again  to  let  you  know  Fuller's  there,  Sir 
Julian.  I  thought  I'd  let  you  know,  so  I  ran  up 
again." 

"  Right.  See  you  at  the  meeting,  I  suppose, 
Cooper?" 

"  Yes,  Sir  Julian.  I  think  I've  always  attended 
every  meeting  since  we  first  opened  here.  Half -past 
eleven,  the  meeting  this  morning;  that  gives  me  just 
half  an  hour.  I  leave  you  here,  then,  and  turn  off  to 
the  locker  room.  ...  Dear  me,  a  sneeze  is  coming ; 
now,  can  I  get  at  a  handkerchief  in  time?  " 

They  left  him  rehearsing  the  procedure  of  his  sneeze 
in  a  sub-audible  manner. 


TENSION  19 

"  That  boy  always  reminds  me  of  a  curate,"  said 
Sir  Julian  unkindly. 

In  the  ground-floor  room  where  the  Supervisor  sat 
intrenched  behind  an  enormous  table  piled  with  papers, 
the  subject  of  the  vacant  post  of  Lady  Superintendent 
was  embarked  upon. 

"  The  girl  I  wrote  to  you  about  from  London,  Sir 
Julian,  is  practically  a  lady,"  said  Fuller,  in  a  very 
earnest  manner,  fixing  a  pair  of  black,  straight-gazing 
eyes  on  his  chief.  "  In  a  general  way,  I  wouldn't  have 
a  girl  who  is  a  lady  on  the  staff  for  anything  you 
could  offer  me,  but  this  one  has  had  three  years'  ex- 
perience in  Southampton  Row,  and  .has  the  highest 
testimonials,  and  certificates  for  shorthand  and  type- 
writing and  a  diploma  for  French." 

"What  salary  does  she  want?  "  said  Mark  Easter. 

"  She'd  take  the  figure  we  decided  on,  because  she 
wants  to  come  to  the  west  of  England." 

"  A  hundred-and-twenty  and  exes  ?  " 

"  That's  right." 

"Free  to  come  at  once?" 

"  To-morrow,  if  we  want  her." 

"  That's  good.  She's  prepared  to  undertake  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  tuition,  and  supervision  of  the  staff, 
of  course  ?  " 

"Quite." 

"  Well,  Sir  Julian,"  said  Mark  Easter,  turning  to 
him,  "  shall  we  put  it  to  the  directors?  " 

Sir  Julian  made  no  immediate  reply,  and  Fuller, 
nothing  if  not  intent  upon  his  business,  laid  both  arms 
upon  the  paper-bestrewn  table,  leant  well  forward,  and 
began  in  an  earnest  and  expostulating  tone : 

"  I   see  you're  hesitating,   sir.     I   wish  you  could 


20  TENSION 

have  had  a  personal  interview  with  the  young  lady, 
for  I  really  was  most  favourably  impressed  —  most 
favourably.  As  I  say,  a  superior  young  woman  is 
always  an  influence,  if  there's  no  nonsense  about  her, 
and  Miss  Marchrose  certainly  has  none,  so  far  as  I 
could  judge.  Of  course,  sir,  the  decision  rests  with 
you,  but  I  must  say  I  should  like  to  give  her  a  trial. 
I  believe  we  might  do  worse." 

"  What  sort  of  age  is  she?  " 

"  She  told  me  she  was  twenty-eight,"  said  Fuller, 
with  a  grin  that  revealed  dazzling  teeth  in  his  swarthy 
face,  and  thereby  considerably  increased  his  already 
marked  resemblance  to  a  Southern  State  negro. 

"  I  should  have  preferred  an  older  woman." 

"  I  doubt  if  she'll  ever  see  thirty  again,  sir,"  said 
Fuller  simply. 

"  Well,  Fuller,  I  know  you've  the  interests  of  the 
College  very  much  at  heart,  and  I'm  quite  willing 
to  give  her  a  trial  on  your  recommendation,"  said 
Julian.  "  We'll  put  it  before  the  directors  at  the 
meeting." 

"  Thank  you,  Sir  Julian.  I  thought  you'd  prob- 
ably trust  my  judgment,"  Fuller  remarked,  with  satis- 
faction. "  And  I  don't  think  you  will  regret  it.  She 
struck  me  as  being  a  thorough  woman  of  business, 
most  capable,  and  as  hard  as  nails." 

At  this  final  qualification  Sir  Julian  looked  rather 
glum,  irresistibly  reminded  of  the  heroine  of  that 
episode  which  had  wrought  so  much  havoc  in  the 
household  of  his  wife's  relatives. 

"  However,"  he  remarked  to  Mark  Easter,  as  they 
went  towards  the  committee-room  at  the  appointed 
hour,  "  I  really  do  trust  Fuller's  judgment,  so  far  as 


TENSION  21 

the  good  of  the  College  goes,  though  I  haven't  his 
own  implicit  belief  in  his  absolute  infallibility." 

"  He  thinks  the  whole  show  rests  on  him,"  said 
Mark  Easter,  and  added  with  belated  justice,  "  And 
for  the  matter  of  that,  I  really  don't  know  where 
we  should  get  another  man  like  him.  He's  a  nailer 
for  work." 

"  I  hope  his  protegee  will  be  a  success.  If  he  talks 
to  the  directors  about  her  being  practically  a  lady,  as 
distinguished,  I  suppose,  from  a  *  young  lady  in  busi- 
ness/ he'll  fetch  that  old  snob  Bellew." 

"  He  probably  won't  mention  it,"  said  Mark  Easter 
shrewdly.  "  He  looks  upon  it  as  a  disadvantage  in  the 
abstract,  but  he  told  me  yesterday  that  he  thought  he 
could  explain  it  if  any  objection  were  raised." 

"  Fuller  would  think  he  could  explain  it,"  Sir 
Julian  rejoined  drily,  "  if  the  creation  of  the  world 
were  in  question." 

The  committee-room  was  a  long,  low  annexe  to  the 
main  body  of  the  building,  with  the  usual  green-baize 
covered  table  placed  lengthways  down  the  middle  of 
the  room,  mahogany  chairs  at  regular  intervals  round 
it,  an  armchair  at  the  head  for  the  chairman,  and  on 
the  table  the  usual  disposition  of  clean  blotting-paper, 
pencils,  note-books,  and  a  carafe  of  water  covered 
with  an  inverted  glass. 

A  clock  ticked  on  the  chimneypiece. 

Young  Cooper  was  the  sole  occupant  of  the  room, 
and  observed  brightly,  "  No  one  has  arrived  yet,  sir, 
but  I  see  the  clock  gives  it  as  two  minutes  to  the  half- 
hour." 

"Got  an  agenda  there,  Cooper?"  said  Mark,  and 
proceeded  to  study  the  typewritten  slip  of  paper. 


22  TENSION 

Sir  Julian  went  to  the  chair  at  the  head  of  the 
table. 

He  also  looked  idly  at  the  agenda,  listening  the 
while  with  the  rather  revolted  fascination  with  which 
young  Cooper's  peculiar  style  of  sub-audible  self- 
communion  always  inspired  him. 

"  I  must  move  my  chair  or  pull  down  the  blind  — 
sun  coming  right  in  through  the  window.  If  I  lift 
it  —  so  —  that  oughtn't  to  interfere  with  anyone 
else.  Just  caught  the  edge  of  the  carpet,  though  - 
that  won't  do  ...  put  the  chair-leg  down  on  it,  and 
then  we're  all  right." 

"  Now,  Sir  Julian,  it's  just  striking  the  half-hour." 

"  I  hear  it." 

"  So  do  I,"  agreed  Cooper  agreeably,  as  the  clock 
on  the  chimneypiece  chimed  loudly.  "  I'm  just  going 
to  the  window,  to  see  if  Mr.  Bellew's  car  is  in  sight." 

Having,  as  usual,  suited  the  action  to  the  word, 
Cooper  was  shortly  able  to  announce  that  the  car  was 
there,  and  that  he  would  come  back  to  the  table  and 
see  if  the  blotting-paper  was  straight. 

"  They'll  draw  on  it,"  he  said  mournfully.  "  They 
always  do.  That's  a  thing  I  couldn't  do  myself,  even 
if  I  weren't  taking  down  the  Minutes.  I  couldn't  pay 
attention  if  I  were  drawing." 

They  did  draw  on  the  blotting-paper. 

Sir  Julian,  leaning  back  at  the  head  of  the  table, 
giving  only  half  his  attention  to  the  meeting,  which 
followed  lines  so  habitual  as  to  have  become  almost 
routine,  watched  with  idle  amusement  the  verification 
of  Cooper's  resignedly  doleful  prophecies. 

Old  Alderman  Bellew,  oily  and  apoplectic,  made 
meaningless  circles  and  semi-circles  with  a  pencil 


TENSION  23 

grasped  between  the  swollen  knuckles  of  his  first  and 
second  fingers,  and  only  glanced  up  once  or  twice  as 
a  question  of  finance  was  touched  upon  by  Fuller, 
Financial  Secretary  to  the  College  as  well  as  Super- 
visor of  Classes. 

Another  director  was  yawning  almost  unconcealedly, 
until,  catching  the  eye  of  the  chairman,  he  assumed  an 
expression  of  acute  concern  and  hastily  inserted  a 
forefinger  into  his  still  open  mouth  as  though  in  search 
of  an  aching  tooth.  This  simple  manoeuvre  was  ap- 
parent to  Sir  Julian,  and  his  eyes  half  involuntarily  met 
Mark  Easter's  laughing  blue  ones  in  an  instant's  ex- 
change of  silent  amusement. 

Julian  looked  down  again  at  his  own  share  of  blot- 
ting-paper, left  immaculate  in  deference  to  Cooper's 
feelings,  and  his  thoughts  dwelt  upon  Mark  Easter. 

He  thought  of  the  good-looking,  light-hearted  fel- 
low that  Mark  had  been  all  his  life,  of  his  casual  mar- 
riage, embarked  upon  out  of  pure  good-nature,  with 
a  woman  older  than  himself,  and  for  no  better  reasons 
than  the  ones  that  he  had  once  put  forward,  half 
apologetically,  to  Julian  himself. 

"  She  was  having  such  a  rotten  time  when  I  met 
her  in  Ireland  —  no  one  ever  asked  her  to  dance,  and 
the  other  girls  all  seemed  to  be  younger  and  prettier 
and  having  more  fun.  I  used  to  take  her  for  drives, 
you  know,  and  then  dance  with  her  in  the  evenings; 
and  upon  my  word,  I  was  the  only  chap  that  ever 
took  any  notice  of  her,  I  do  believe.  And  I  really  did 
want  to  settle  down  and  have  a  home,  and  it  somehow 
seemed  more  likely  she'd  take  me  than  one  of  the  pretty 
little  fly-aways  who  could  get  all  the  fun  they  wanted 
before  settling  down.  She  was  by  way  of  being  a 


24  TENSION 

good  housekeeper,  too,  and  fond  of  kids.  I'm  fond 
of  kids  myself,"  said  Mark  Easter  wistfully. 

Sir  Julian  wondered,  not  for  the  first  time,  how  long 
that  fondness  had  survived  the  shrieking,  stamping, 
bullying  era  inaugurated  by  Ruthie,  and  the  whin- 
ing, unwashed,  question-asking  proclivities  of  her 
junior. 

Mark  Easter  never  spoke  of  his  children  except 
with  a  sort  of  apologetic  tolerance,  but  neither  was  he 
often  to  be  seen  in  their  company. 

He  was  agent  to  the  Rossiter  estate,  and  more  often 
found  about  his  work  and  at  the  College  in  Culmouth 
than  in  his  untidy,  servant-ridden,  mistressless  house. 

Julian's  thoughts  turned  for  an  unwilling  moment 
to  the  recollection  of  the  rapidly-growing  gossip  that 
had  saddled  Mark  Easter,  ten  years  ago,  with  an  al- 
ternatively morphomaniac,  drug-taking  inebriate  or 
homicidally  insane  partner.  To  his  own  ever-increas- 
ing, silent  certainty  that  disaster  threatened  the  only 
human  being  whom  he  cared  for  in  the  world,  to 
Mark's  haggard  face  and  prolonged  absences  from 
home. 

Then  to  a  grey  dawn,  when  Mark  had  ridden  up 
to  ask  in  three  inarticulate  words  for  help  that  Julian 
had  given  in  almost  unbroken  silence.  Mrs.  Easter 
had  gone  away,  and  there  was  no  more  occasion  for 
furtive  surmise,  for  everyone  knew  at  last  that  she 
had  been  steadily  drinking  her  way  into  the  home  for 
inebriates  that  now  had  sheltered  her  for  more  than 
seven  years. 

And  Mark,  with  an  elasticity  at  which  Julian  had 
never  yet  ceased  to  marvel,  had  recovered  his  habit  of 
easy  laughter,  his  keen  interest  in  his  work,  his  old 


TENSION  25 

enthusiasm  for  the  Commercial  and  Technical  College 
schemes. 

Sir  Julian  secretly  admired  and  envied  his  almost 
childlike  absorption  in  the  College.  He  sent  sidelong 
glances  from  time  to  time  at  Mark's  keen,  handsome 
face,  at  the  shrewdness  of  the  gaze  which  he  kept 
upon  each  speaker. 

Fairfax  Fuller  —  never  was  there  a  worse  mis- 
nomer, thought  Julian,  with  a  grim  half -smile,  as  he 
looked  at  his  swarthy- faced  subordinate  —  Fairfax 
Fuller  might  have  made  a  good  speaker  —  say,  a 
political  agent.  Kept  to  his  facts,  always  sound,  and 
with  a  weight  of  personal  conviction  that  told.  But 
there  was  nothing  to  look  interested  about,  Julian  re- 
flected, as  Mark  Easter  was  looking  interested. 

Fuller  always  put  forward  the  same  arguments :  for 
a  better  class  of  teacher,  for  an  extension  of  adver- 
tisement, always  with  the  same  implication  of  his  own 
indispensability  as  managing  Supervisor. 

Alderman  Belle w  was  tedious,  obviously  only  speak- 
ing at  all  so  as  to  impress  the  fact  of  his  presence 
on  his  fellow-directors,  and  Mark  Easter  said  nothing, 
until  Miss  Marchrose's  application  for  the  post  of  Lady 
Superintendent  was  brought  forward  by  Fuller. 

The  discussion  of  the  appointment  was  merely  for- 
mal, and  Sir  Julian  gave  it  formal  sanction. 

"  I  think  that  concludes  our  business  for  to-day,  gen- 
tlemen. Thank  you  all  very  much." 

The  chairman  rose. 

"Anything  else  you  want  me  for,  Fuller?  "  he  en- 
quired, as  the  meeting  dispersed. 

"  I  don't  think  so,  thank  you,  sir,"  said  Fuller,  with 
a  manifest  air  of  dissatisfaction. 


26  TENSION 

Sir  Julian,  knowing  his  Supervisor,  lingered. 

"  Lady  Rossiter  has  kindly  asked  the  members  of 
the  staff  out  to  Culmhayes  on  Sunday,  Sir  Julian." 

Sir  Julian  looked  quite  as  much  annoyed  as  did  Mr. 
Fuller* 

Few  things  were,  in  the  opinion  either  of  the  Super- 
visor or  of  his  employer,  less  to  be  commended  than 
Lady  Rossiter's  benevolent  attempts  at  keeping  in 
touch  with  the  staff  of  the  College. 

Appearances,  however,  were  discreetly  maintained. 

"  I  hope  as  many  of  them  will  come  as  care  for  the 
walk,"  said  Sir  Julian,  with  gloomy  civility. 

"  I  am  sure  they  will  be  delighted,  and  it  will  make 
a  nice  beginning  for  Miss  Marchrose  on  her  first  Sun- 
day." 

Sir  Julian  walked  away  even  gloomier  than  before 
at  the  recollection  that  his  wife's  hospitality  would 
not  improbably  be  extended  to  the  perpetrator  of  the 
outrage  which  had  driven  Captain  Clarence  Isbister  to 
such  extreme  demonstrations  of  despair. 

"  Do  you  happen  to  remember  —  did  you  notice  - 
what  that  woman's  Christian  name  was?  "  he  enquired 
of  Mark  Easter. 

"  The  new  Superintendent  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Let  me  see.  I  saw  her  letter  to  Fuller  —  some- 
thing unusual.  .  .  .  Was  it  Pauline?" 

"  I  thought  so,"  said  Sir  Julian. 

It  was  characteristic  both  of  Sir  Julian's  dislike 
to  anything  which  came,  in  his  opinion,  under  the 
extremely  elastic  heading  of  officiousness,  and  of  the 
care  with  which  he  had  impressed  his  dislike  upon 
Mark  Easter,  that  his  companion  did  not  ask  him  why 


TENSION  27 

he  thus  dejectedly  took  for  granted  the  name  bestowed 
at  baptism  upon  Miss  Marchrose.  Mark  Easter,  talk- 
ative and  open-hearted,  was  yet  the  only  man  from 
whom  Sir  Julian  said  that  he  had  never  received  an 
officious  enquiry  or  an  unasked  offer  of  assistance. 

If  the  remark  might  be  looked  upon  as  a  form  of 
the  highest  commendation,  it  was  one  which  Sir  Julian 
had  never  yet  shown  any  disposition  to  make  in  regard 
to  his  wife. 

Nothing  had  as  yet  persuaded  Edna  Rossiter  of  the 
inadvisability  of  addressing  personalities  to  a  man 
whose  surface  cynicism  was  used  to  cloak  extreme 
sensitiveness,  and  whose  bitterness  of  speech  was  the 
outcome  of  such  disillusionment  of  spirit  as  comes  only 
to  those  capable  of  an  idealism  as  delicate  as  it  is 
reserved. 

"  Are  you  going  home,  Mark,  or  will  you  lunch  at 
the  club?" 

"  The  club,"  said  Mark  decidedly,  with  an  intona- 
tion that  brought  before  Sir  Julian's  inner  vision  a 
lively  picture  of  the  probable  congealed  mutton,  under- 
done potatoes,  the  lumpy  milk-pudding  of  Sarah's  pro- 
viding, doubtless  to  be  consumed  to  an  accompaniment 
of  senseless  comments  and  enquiries  from  Ruthie  and 
Ambrose  on  the  engrossing  subject  of  "Why,  Ben! 
A  Story  of  the  Sexes."  As  the  thought  crossed  his 
mind,  Mark  observed: 

"  Iris  is  coming  down  here  later  on.  Of  course,  she 
wants  to  be  in  London  for  the  publication  of  her  novel, 
but  that  won't  be  out  till  the  winter,  she  says.  Poor 
girl !  I  wish  people  would  not  put  it  into  her  head 
that  it  is  her  duty  to  come  and  look  after  me  and  the 
children  at  intervals." 


28  TENSION 

"Who  does  put  it  into  her  head?" 

"  Various  old  aunts.  I  wish  people  would  mind 
their  own  business.  Poor  Iris  hates  the  country." 

"  Is  she  still  living  in  the  flat?  " 

"  Yes,  with  another  girl.  I  believe  they  sleep  in 
the  boot-hole  and  do  their  own  cooking,  but  it's  all  a 
great  success,  and  Iris  is  very  happy,  and  has  the  sort 
of  Bohemian  society  she  likes.  It  is  a  much  better 
arrangement  than  her  being  down  here  with  me.  I'm 
not  sure,"  said  Mark  thoughtfully,  "that  I  approve 
of  relations  living  together  after  they  are  grown-up." 

Sir  Julian  agreed  with  him  so  cordially  as  to  suggest 
that  the  case  in  point  was  emphatically  one  in  which 
the  proposed  arrangement  would  be  eminently  un- 
desirable. 

"  I  don't  know  that  Iris,  devoted  though  she  is  to 
them,  is  the  best  possible  person  to  be  with  the  chil- 
dren." 

"  No,"  said  Julian,  with  restraint,  considering  his 
private  opinion  to  be  that  if  anything  on  earth  could 
render  Mark  Easter's  progeny  more  insufferable  than 
nature  and  the  maternal  shortcomings  had  already 
made  them,  it  was  the  society  of  their  affected,  sub- 
urban, and  distinctly  underbred  young  relative.  It  was 
a  source  of  continual  wonder  to  him,  what  sort  of  a 
person  the  second  Mrs.  Easter  could  have  been,  to 
have  presented  Mark  with  such  a  half-sister  as  the 
twenty-year-old  perpetrator  of  "  Why,  Ben!  " 

The  conclusion. long  ago  come  to  by  him,  that  Mark 
had  been  afflicted  with  the  most  intolerable  set  of  rela- 
tions ever  owned  by  man,  was  destined  to  be  furnished 
with  yet  another  proof  of  validity  at  the  end  of  the 
day. 


TENSION  29 

As  the  two  men  came  back  across  the  fields  of  Sir 
Julian's  property  late  in  the  afternoon,  Mark  whistling 
under  his  breath  and  Julian  silent  in  the  comfortable 
companionship  of  long  association  and  mutual  under- 
standing, a  sound  of  hoarse,  ceaseless  yelling  that  could 
have  been  produced  by  no  other  human  larynx  than 
that  of  Mark  Easter's  daughter  came  from  the  garden 
of  the  villa. 

"  I'm  afraid  that's  Ruthie,"  said  her  parent,  sensibly 
slackening  his  pace. 

"  I'm  certain  it  is." 

Ruthie  was  bent  double  across  the  dangerously- 
creaking  top  bar  of  the  wooden  paling. 

She  raised  a  face,  flushed  and  distorted,  indeed,  as 
much  from  her  unnatural  position  as  from  her  vocal 
efforts,  but  unstained  by  tears,  and  proclaimed  aloud: 

"  Daddy,  Peekaboo  has  been  such  a  naughty  boy. 
Sarah  is  putting  him  to  bed  and  I'm  singing  so  that 
he  can  hear  me  from  the  night-nursery  window.  He 
has  written  up  in  ink  all  over  the  drawing-room  door, 
and  the  dining-room  door,  and  the  nursery  door,  '  The 
two  best  books  in  the  world  are  "  Why,  Ben ! "  and 
the  Bible.'  " 


Ill 

EDNA  ROSSITER,  in  common  with  the  majority  of 
her  sex,  supposed  herself  to  be  a  religious  woman  be- 
cause she  had,  from  early  girlhood,  indulged  nightly 
in  five  minutes  spent  on  her  knees  beside  her  bed,  her 
face  pressed  against  the  satin  quilt,  while  she  thought 
about  herself. 

Very  soon  after  her  marriage  she  formed  the  habit 
of  prolonging  the  five  minutes  into  ten,  or  even  fifteen, 
while  she  consecrated  a  few  vindictively  earnest 
thoughts  of  forgiveness  to  her  husband. 

Within  the  last  ten  years,  all  the  forbearance  which 
she  was  capable  of  displaying  being  apparently  without 
any  effect  upon  Sir  Julian,  Lady  Rossiter  had  rather 
disgustedly  transferred  her  allegiance  from  the  Al- 
mighty, in  propria  persona,  to  God  as  He  is  found  in 
Nature. 

Nature,  primarily,  meant  out-of-doors  generally,  in 
warm  weather,  and  the  sound  of  the  sea  two  miles 
off,  audible  from  beside  the  boudoir  fire,  in  the  colder 
seasons. 

Lately,  however,  Nature  had  also  embraced  such  of 
humanity  as  had  its  place  rather  lower  than  that  of 
the  Rossiters  in  the  social  scale. 

Edna  sought  for  the  Divine  Spark  in  her  fellow- 
creatures,  and  frequently  discovered  it,  with  renewed 
satisfaction  to  herself  and  to  its  possessor. 

As  she  often  said,  smiling  a  little: 

30 


TENSION  31 

"  There's  so  much  bad  in  the  best  of  us, 
There's  so  much  good  in  the  worst  of  us " 

She  never  finished  the  quotation,  except  by  the 
smile,  because  she  knew  it  to  be  at  all  times  easy  to 
trip  over  its  inversions  and  repetitions,  and  thus  risk 
the  transition  from  the  sublime  to  the  ridiculous. 

One  of  the  most  recent  manifestations  of  what 
Julian  had  once  designated  in  his  wife's  hearing  as 
the  "  Hunting  of  the  Spark,"  was  her  wholesale  invi- 
tation to  the  staff  of  teachers  at  the  College  to  spend 
Sunday  afternoon  at  Culmhayes. 

A  few  stray  and  tentative  young  women  had  availed 
themselves  of  it  once,  showing  a  marked  disposition 
towards  wandering  arm-in-arm  round  the  gardens, 
avoiding  their  hostess  as  much  as  possible,  and  Cooper 
had  twice  walked  over  from  Culmouth  and  made 
nervously  easy  conversation  to  Lady  Rossiter,  which 
had  dwindled  into  a  sort  of  alert  silence  when  her  hus- 
band came  in. 

"  Mind  you  bring  them  all  next  week,"  had  been 
Lady  Rossiter's  farewell  injunction,  to  which  Cooper 
had  replied  with  great  confidence  and  assurance. 

Preparing  for  her  guests  on  Sunday  afternoon,  there- 
fore, Lady  Rossiter  gazed  smilingly  out  of  her  window 
at  a  cloudless  day  of  August.  Evidently  Nature  was 
in  league  with  her  votary. 

Lady  Rossiter  told  her  maid  to  bring  the  black-and- 
white  mousseline  de  sole.  No  other  colours  suited  her 
fairness  so  admirably,  and  she  always  wore  the  com- 
bination when  embarking  upon  any  enterprise  of  par- 
ticular benevolence.  The  thick  pallor  of  her  complex- 
ion could  afford  to  defy  the  sun,  and  she  seldom  wore 


32  TENSION 

a  hat  in  the  garden.  A  black-and-white-striped  sun- 
shade made  quite  as  effective  a  background  for  her 
mass  of  auburn  hair  and  black  eyebrows  and  lashes. 

Before  going  downstairs  she  thoughtfully  slipped 
the  rings  from  her  long  white  fingers,  and  bade  her 
maid  substitute  a  small  crystal  cross  on  a  velvet  ribbon 
for  her  pearl  necklace. 

The  maid  had  not  been  with  her  very  long,  and 
obeyed  the  mandate  with  such  wooden  matter-of-fact- 
ness  that  Lady  Rossiter  added  gently : 

"  One  doesn't  want  anyone  to  feel  the  least  little  - 
difference  —  in  any  way.     We  have  all  grown  to  have 
such  false  ideas  of  values  .  .  ." 

'  Yes,  m'lady,"  said  Mason,  looking  so  thoroughly 
bewildered  that  Lady  Rossiter  resolved  to  read  extracts 
from  Ruskin  aloud  to  her  while  her  hair  was  being 
brushed  at  nights. 

She  went  downstairs  slowly,  to  find  Julian  reading 
in  the  hall. 

"Jorrocks?"  she  enquired  playfully,  but  with  a 
meaning  that  she  knew  would  not  be  lost  upon  her  hus- 
band. 

Ever  since  she  had  wrung  from  a  monosyllabic 
Julian  the  admission  that  neither  Ruskin,  Pater,  nor 
Stevenson  "  meant  "  to  him  that  which  they  meant  to 
her,  Edna  had  assumed,  by  almost  imperceptible  de- 
grees, that  her  husband's  only  literature  consisted  of 
Jorrocks  and  the  volumes  of  the  Badminton  series. 

Dickens  she  had  unwillingly  conceded  to  him,  since 
Dickens  made  no  appeal  to  her  personally,  but  she  was 
more  apt  to  dwell  upon  his  liking  for  the  "  Pickwick 
Papers  "  and  "  Nicholas  Nickleby  "  than  for  "  Great 
Expectations  "  or  "  David  Copperfield." 


TENSION  33 

At  her  enquiry  Julian  closed  his  book. 

"  Jorrocks,  of  course,"  he  assented  expressionlessly, 
putting  down  Huysman's  "  En  Route,"  and  not 
troubling  to  display  the  title. 

"  Did  Mr.  Fuller  tell  you  how  many  of  my  staff 
meant  to  come  this  afternoon?  " 

"  No.  I  don't  suppose,  in  any  case,  that  they  would 
have  told  him." 

"  That's  so  curious  to  me,  Julian.  To  work  to- 
gether all  the  week,  and  yet  know  nothing  of  one  an- 
other's real  life  —  nothing  of  what  goes  on  in  the  free 
time,  or  the  one  holiday  of  the  week." 

"  What  generally  goes  on,  I  imagine,  is  that  the  girls 
have  their  hair  waved  on  Saturday  afternoons,  stay  in 
bed  on  Sunday  mornings,  and  go  out  with  their  young 
men  on  Sunday  evenings.  I  doubt  if  the  procedure 
ever  varies." 

"  And  that  with  God's  own  blue  sea  less  than  a  mile 
away !  "  ejaculated  Lady  Rossiter  under  her  breath,  but 
nevertheless  quite  audibly. 

"  Cooper  generally  goes  for  a  walk  on  Saturday  af- 
ternoon," said  Sir  Julian  consolingly ;  "  and  Fuller,  and 
I  imagine  a  good  many  of  the  other  fellows  as  well,  to 
a  football  or  cricket  match." 

"  Can  you  wonder  that  we  long  to  win  them  to 
clearer,  wider  ideals?  "  his  wife  enquired. 

She  waited  for  no  reply,  aware  of  old  that  Julian 
invariably  professed  a  supreme  indifference  to  the  out- 
look of  the  College  staff  when  outside  their  College 
walls,  but  trailed  into  the  wide,  cool  drawing-room 
containing  little  furniture  and  an  abundance  of  roses 
and  heliotrope. 

Lady  Rossiter  arranged  the  flowers  herself,  and  did 


34  TENSION 

so  exquisitely.  She  often  said  that  flowers  were  liter- 
ally a  necessity  to  her  —  an  opinion  frequently  held 
by  those  whose  financial  situation  has  never  compelled 
them  to  regard  flowers  as  an  alternative  to,  let  us  say, 
butter  for  breakfast,  in  which  case  the  relative  value 
of  the  commodities  in  question  is  apt  to  undergo  alter- 
ation. 

Poised  over  her  bowls  of  pink  roses,  Lady  Rossiter 
was  taken  by  surprise  when  her  guests  eventually  ar- 
rived. 

Sir  Julian  strongly  suspected  that  had  the  drawing- 
room  window  given  on  to  the  drive,  instead  of  on  to 
the  green  bowling-alley,  his  wife  would  herself  have 
met  her  visitors  at  the  hospitably  opened  hall  door, 
thus  sparing  the  dignity  of  Horber,  undemocratic  as 
only  a  butler  can  be,  from  the  announcement  which  he 
stiffly  made  out  of  the  extreme  corners  of  his  mouth. 

"  Miss  Farmer,  Miss  Sandiloe,  and  Mr.  Cooper, 
m'lady." 

Miss  Farmer,  in  a  green  linen  which  accorded 
singularly  ill  with  a  sallow  complexion ;  Miss  Sandiloe, 
girlish,  pretty  and  full  of  giggles  that  threatened  dis- 
aster to  a  tightly-fitting  and  transparent  white  muslin ; 
and  Mr.  Cooper,  obviously  in  the  toils  of  Miss  Sand- 
iloe, came  one  by  one  into  the  drawing-room,  where 
Lady  Rossiter,  in  point  of  fact,  had  never  intended 
them  to  penetrate  at  all. 

Sir  Julian,  watching  the  entry  in  an  angle  of  the  hall 
window-seat  which  he  trusted  to  be  invisible  from  the 
drawing-room,  could  not  forbear  the  tribute  of  an  un- 
willing admiration  to  his  wife's  handling  of  the  rather 
embarrassed  trio. 

"  Ah,  but  how  nice !     Miss  Farmer,  of  course  we've 


TENSION  35 

met  before;  and  Mr.  Cooper"  -a  shake  of  the  hand 
to  each.  "  And ?  "  A  pause,  with  pleasantly  up- 
lifted eyebrows,  in  front  of  Miss  Sandiloe. 

"  Miss  Sandiloe,"  Miss  Farmer  supplied,  and  added 
rather  haltingly,  obviously  unsure  of  the  etiquette  gov- 
erning the  position : 

"  The  junior  teacher  of  shorthand,  Lady  Rossiter." 

"  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you,"  said  the  lady,  with  an 
additional  graciousness  designed,  Julian  imagined,  to 
set  the  youthful  stranger  at  her  ease. 

The  unexpectedly  high-pitched  note,  however,  upon 
which  Miss  Sandiloe  off-handedly  replied,  "  Oh, 
thanks !  "  did  not  indicate  shyness. 

Julian  viewed  it  as  an  example  of  the  law  of  cause 
and  effect  that  his  wife's  next  observation  was  made 
in  tones  that  savoured  less  of  kindly  welcome  and 
more  of  rather  distant  patronage. 

"  I  am  always  anxious  to  get  to  know  all  the  mem- 
bers of  the  College  staff,  and  have  them  out  here  if  I 
possibly  can.  I  take  a  great  interest  in  the  College. 
In  fact,  I'm  on  the  committee  of  management." 

"  Are  you  ? "  said  Miss  Sandiloe  indifferently. 
"  What  topping  flowers  those  are !  " 

She  thrust  her  face  into  the  fragrant  mass  which 
Lady  Rossiter  had  just  left. 

"  You  must  all  come  into  the  garden,  when  it's  a 
little  cooler." 

Lady  Rossiter  addressed  herself  to  Miss  Farmer. 

"  Meanwhile  it's  too  bad  of  me  to  keep  you  standing 
in  this  hot  room.  Come  into  the  morning-room." 

Julian  fancied  that  Miss  Farmer,  heated  and 
wearied,  and  with  dusty  patent-leather  shoes  that 
creaked  as  she  walked,  and  bore  a  large  crack  across 


36  TENSION 

each,  as  though  they  were  too  tight,  cast  a  rather  wist- 
ful look  at  the  large,  beautifully-shaded  room  of  which 
they  had  penetrated  no  further  than  the  threshold. 

But  she  obediently  followed  her  hostess,  and  Miss 
Sandiloe,  giggling  slightly,  tripped  behind  her  with 
Cooper  in  tow. 

From  sheer  curiosity,  Julian  went  into  the  morning- 
room  twenty  minutes  later. 

His  wife,  looking  unusually  harassed,  was  seated 
near  the  window,  Miss  Farmer,  Miss  Sandiloe  and  Mr. 
Cooper  having  unconsciously  placed  themselves  in  a 
semi-circle  in  front  of  her,  each  seated  upon  the  edge 
of  an  upright  chair. 

"  Why,"  Lady  Rossiter  was  exclaiming  in  her 
brightest  voice,  "  one  of  my  greatest  friends  is  a  dear 
little  dressmaker  who  lives  in  Culmouth,  and  another 
is  the  quaint  old  man  who  looks  after  the  lifeboat- 
house  down  in  our  Duckpool  Cove." 

Edna  must  be  hard  put  to  it,  Julian  reflected,  to  have 
made  use  of  both  her  dear  little  dressmaker  and  her 
quaint  old  man  within  one  sentence.  Both,  he  knew, 
were  frequently  in  requisition  for  the  dissipation  of 
any  sense  of  awkwardness  which  she  suspected  might 
be  assailing  her  visitors,  but  one  was  generally  held 
in  reserve  to  supplement  the  effect  of  the  other  if 
necessary. 

"  Here  you  are !  "  Edna  exclaimed,  almost  with  re- 
lief in  her  voice,  as  he  entered,  thereby,  Julian  told 
himself,  depriving  young  Cooper  of  a  remark  which 
he  would  certainly  have  made  his  own. 

Young  Cooper,  however,  was  not  to  be  defeated. 
"  We've  accepted  Lady  Rossiter's  kind  invitation, 
you  see,  Sir  Julian,"  he  observed. 


TENSION  37 

"  How  are  you,  Cooper?  How  d'y'e  do?"  He 
shook  hands  with  the  shorthand  teachers.  "  Were  you 
the  only  people  energetic  enough  to  walk  over  in  this 
heat?" 

"  Why,  yes.  The  new  Lady  Superintendent 
spoke  of  coming  since  Lady  Rossiter  was  so  kind, 
but  she  didn't  turn  up,  so  we've  come  without 
her." 

"Tell  me  about  the  new  Superintendent,"  said 
Edna  quickly.  "  Miss  Marchrose,  isn't  she?  " 

"  Most  pleasant  and  energetic,"  said  Cooper  rapidly. 
"  The  sort  of  young  lady  /  call  capable." 

"  She's  got  into  the  way  of  things  very  quickly," 
Miss  Farmer  supplemented. 

"  I  wonder  if  she  is  connected  with  a  Miss  March- 
rose  whom  I  used  to  hear  about,  some  years  ago " 

said  Lady  Rossiter  thoughtfully. 

"  Here's  Easter !  "  exclaimed  her  husband,  looking 
from  the  window  and  feeling  thankful  for  any  inter- 
ruption to  Edna's  possible  intention  of  recapitulating 
the  scandal  attaching  to  the  unfortunately  uncommon 
name  of  the  new  Superintendent. 

Young  Cooper  sprang  up. 

"  Let  me  make  rather  more  room.  I'll  move  to  this 
chair,  if  I  may,  Lady  Rossiter." 

Mark  Easter's  arrival  improved  matters  greatly, 
even  though  he  was  accompanied  by  the  preposterous 
Ruthie,  adopting  a  sudden  pose  of  extreme  shyness, 
and  concealing  her  face  on  her  left  shoulder,  after  the 
manner  of  a  timid  infant  of  two  years  old.  The  mem- 
bers of  the  staff  knew  Mark,  had  laughed  at  his  jokes 
in  and  out  of  office  hours,  had  experienced  his  pleasant, 
courteously-abrupt  authority  in  work-time,  and  knew 


38  TENSION 

him  for  a  fellow-worker  who  spared  himself  less  than 
he  did  them. 

Miss  Sandiloe  launched  into  the  shrill  fire  of  giggling 
repartee  which  was  her  nearest  approach  to  natural- 
ness. Miss  Farmer's  frown  of  strained  attention  re- 
laxed, and  she  leant  back,  as  though  for  the  first  time 
able  to  look  at  her  surroundings,  and  Cooper  ceased  to 
fix  bulging  and  attentive  eyes  upon  his  hostess. 

Julian  marvelled,  not  at  all  for  the  first  time,  at  the 
invariable  effect  upon  his  surroundings  of  Mark 
Easter's  elementary  witticisms  and  gay,  indefinable 
charm  of  manner. 

He  knew  that  his  wife  liked  Mark,  if  only  because 
he  was  always  ready  to  let  her  talk  to  him  in  low- 
voiced,  womanly  sympathy  of  the  otherwise  unmen- 
tioned  Mrs.  Easter.  Lady  Rossiter  often  said  that, 
but  for  her,  the  tragedy  of  Mark's  life  would  have 
been  left  to  corrode  in  silent  bitterness. 

Perhaps  it  was  true. 

Julian  knew  that  to  his  wife  was  it  frequently  given 
to  rush  in  where  others  might  not  only  hesitate,  but 
positively  refuse,  to  tread,  and  he  knew  that  Mark's 
simple  gratitude  for  her  interest  in  him  was  as  genuine 
as  it  was  outspoken. 

He  wondered,  sometimes,  at  that  very  simplicity,  in 
a  man  of  acute  sympathies  and  unfailing  intuition  such 
as  Mark  again  and  again  proved  himself  to  possess  in 
almost  every  relation  into  which  he  entered.  There 
were  even  times  when  he  asked  himself,  in  utter  per- 
plexity, whether  Mark  could  himself  be  as  sensitive  as 
his  quickness  of  perception  for  sensitiveness  in  others 
appeared  to  denote. 

He  thought  that  he  had  seldom  seen  Edna  look  more 


TENSION  39 

relieved  than  at  the  dissipation  of  the  constraint 
amongst  her  tea-party,  caused  by  Mark's  entrance. 

"  Will  you  ring  for  tea,  Mark?"  she  asked  smil- 
ingly. She  had  the  trick,  not  uncommon  to  a  certain 
type  of  woman,  of  assuming  a  more  proprietary  tone 
and  manner  when  speaking  to  a  man  not  her  husband. 

Julian's  restless  and  observant  mind  almost  auto- 
matically registered  the  subconscious  irritation  in- 
stantly produced  in  the  other  two  women.  , 

Miss  Farmer,  turning  to  young  Cooper,  asked  him 
if  he  would  be  so  very  kind  as  to  reach  her  little  bag, 
which  contained  a  handkerchief. 

Miss  Sandiloe,  more  actively  resentful,  as  well  as  far 
more  self-confident  in  the  youthful  security  of  possess- 
ing good  looks  and  an  evident  admirer  in  the  shape  of 
Cooper,  was  bolder. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Easter,  I'm  awfully  glad  you're  here.  I 
mean,  really  I  am.  I've  got  some  killing  things  to 
tell  you,  about  the  Coll.  We've  got  some  freaks  there 
now,  really  we  have." 

"  What  have  you  done  with  the  young  gentleman 
who  wanted  to  learn  enough  shorthand  to  get  him  a 
post  in  a  newspaper  office  in  six  lessons  ?  "  enquired 
Mark,  as  usual  full  of  interest. 

"  Oh,  him !  It  wasn't  him  I  was  thinking  of  so 
much,  really,  though  he  certainly  is  a  caution.  I  mean, 
really  he  is.  But  he's  come  off  the  six  lessons  stunt, 
all  the  same." 

[t  Well  done !  Have  you  persuaded  him  to  take  a 
course  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  7've  got  to  do  with  it,  I'm  sure," 
Miss  Sandiloe  said,  with  a  self-conscious  laugh.  "  But 
I'm  taking  him  for  private  tuition  now,  three  times  a 


40  TENSION 

week,  as  well  as  him  going  to  the  usual  classes,  and 
he'll  be  in  the  Speed  in  no  time." 

Miss  Farmer,  looking  more  animated  than  when 
making  impersonal  and  agonised  conversation  with  her 
hostess,  joined  in. 

"  Miss  Marchrose  is  taking  the  High  Speed  room 
now,  Mr.  Easter.  She's  got  a  beautiful  pronouncia- 
tion  —  so  clear,  it  is." 

Lady  Rossiter  smiled  —  a  kind,  faint  smile,  that,  to 
her  husband's  perceptions,  admirably  succeeded  in  un- 
derlining her  determination  to  avoid  noticing  Miss 
Farmer's  slip. 

"  It's  so  wonderful  of  you,  I  think,  to  be  so  devoted 
to  your  work,"  she  said.  "  That  is  one  reason  why  I 
love  the  society  of  workers.  They  are  always  so  eager 
about  their  work,  and  I  think  it  is  so  wonderful  of 
them." 

Edna  did  not  generally  repeat  herself,  but  the  curious 
hostility  vibrant  in  the  air  surrounding  her  philan- 
thropic enterprise  was  making  her  nervous. 

"  I've  always  been  keen  on  my  job,"  said  Cooper 
complacently,  "  but  I  ought  to  have  been  an  engineer. 
I  should  have  liked  that." 

"  But  then  —  why  not  have  followed  your  voca- 
tion? "  Edna  enquired,  with  tilted  eyebrows. 

Cooper  shook  his  head. 

"  It's  an  expensive  training,  Lady  Rossiter.  If  I'd 
had  the  capital,  I  should  have  liked  it,  though." 

"  I  understand,"  gently  said  Edna,  with  a  whole 
world  of  implication  in  her  tone,  at  which  Cooper 
looked  rather  astonished,  and  Miss  Sandiloe  decidedly 
resentful. 


TENSION  41 

"  Daddy !  "  said  a  sudden  voice. 

Everybody  looked  at  the  forgotten  Ruthie,  who 
stood  on  one  leg  beside  her  father's  chair. 

"  Daddy,  I'm  afraid  I  shall  forget  my  piece,  if  I 
don't  say  it  soon,"  said  Ruthie  in  an  excessively  au- 
dible aside,  and  with  the  evident  determination  of  dis- 
playing her  histrionic  attainments  to  the  assembly. 

Mark  laughed,  with  the  injudicious  tolerance  that 
he  was  all  too  apt  to  accord  to  the  ill-timed  demonstra- 
tions of  his  offspring. 

"  Not  now,  Ruthie.  Perhaps  Lady  Rossiter 
doesn't  want  you  to  say  your  piece  at  all." 

Few  suggestions  could  have  been  better  founded 
upon  fact,  and  Lady  Rossiter  made  no  attempt  to  con- 
tradict Ruthie's  father. 

Julian  wondered  if  it  was  altogether  undesignedly 
that  Miss  Sandiloe  instantly  exclaimed: 

"  Are  you  going  to  recite  to  us,  dear  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  am,"  said  Miss  Easter  in  loud,  confident 
tones.  "  I  always  recite  when  I  go  out  to  tea." 

The  relentless  inevitability  of  the  proposed  enter- 
tainment deprived  even  Miss  Sandiloe  of  further  ut- 
terance for  the  moment. 

"  You  will  not  be  asked  again  if  you  give  yourself 
such  a  bad  character,"  said  Mark  in  a  rather  hopeless 
voice. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  shall.  Lady  Rossiter  always  likes  me 
and  Peekaboo  to  come;  she  said  so!  We  can  come 
whenever  we  like." 

Sir  Julian's  regard  for  Mark  Easter  alone  prevented 
him  from  disclaiming  aloud  any  share  in  the  unlimited 
hospitality  so  rashly  proclaimed  by  his  wife  in  the  days 


42  TENSION 

of  Ruthie's  and  Ambrose's  comparatively  innocuous 
babyhood,  and  so  unscrupulously  worked  to  death  by 
them  ever  since. 

"  Is  Peekaboo  a  pet  ?  "  asked  Miss  Farmer  kindly. 

"  Not  always,"  Ruthie  replied  literally.  "  Some- 
times he's  a  very  naughty  boy.  Sarah  has  locked  him 
up  in  the  boot-cupboard  this  afternoon,  because  — 

"  Hush,  hush,"  hastily  said  Mark,  "  we  don't  tell 
tales  out  of  school." 

Julian  wondered  grimly  what  story  of  misdoing  the 
exhortation  to  fraternal  charity  might  cover.  The 
unforeseeable  and  disastrous  ingenuity  of  Ambrose's 
misdeeds  was  only  to  be  compared  to  the  skill  with 
which  his  partner  and  instigator  in  crime  invariably 
managed  to  extricate  herself  at  the  eleventh  hour  from 
complicity  and  leave  him  the  solitary  victim  of  blame 
and  punishment. 

Tea  and  cakes,  arriving  opportunely,  staved  off 
Ruthie's  recitation,  and  brought  the  relief  of  move- 
ment. 

Lady  Rossiter  crumbled  a  very  small  sponge-cake  be- 
hind the  silver-kettle,  and  said  in  a  general  sort  of 
way  that  she  hoped  everyone  would  make  a  very  good 
tea  and  eat  a  great  deal.  She  herself  always  thought 
of  Sunday  tea  as  one  of  the  principal  meals  of  the  day, 
as  it  would  only  be  followed  by  cold  supper  in  the 
evening. 

Whether  cold  supper  was  to  be  the  portion  of  her 
guests  or  not,  however,  the  piled  plates  of  buns  and 
the  large  cakes,  bearing  a  certain  superficial  resemblance 
to  preparations  for  a  school-treat,  were  better  patro- 
nised by  Ruthie  than  by  the  members  of  the  College  staff. 


TENSION  43 

"  We  mustn't  leave  it  too  late  to  be  starting  back," 
Miss  Farmer  said  nervously.  "  I  mean,  it's  quite  a 
longish  walk." 

Julian  gauged  the  measure  of  Edna's  discouragement 
by  her  omission  to  insist  graciously  upon  an  expedition 
first  round  the  garden. 

"  You  must  come  again  one  Sunday,"  she  said,  not, 
however,  making  precise  mention  of  any  date.  "  I 
should  like  you  to  see  my  view  of  the  sea.  There  is 
a  beautiful  little  glimpse  to  be  had  from  a  corner  of 
the  garden.  .  .  .  You  must  so  need  a  draught  of  blue 
distance  after  working  inside  four  walls  all  the  week." 

"  Thank  you,  Lady  Rossiter,"  said  Miss  Farmer 
meekly,  turning  a  pale  brick-colour. 

"  Thanks,"  said  Miss  Sandiloe,  her  nose  in  the  air 
and  her  voice  aggressive ;  "  but  really  I  can  get  all  the 
view  I  want  of  the  sea  from  Culmouth.  My  window 
looks  right  over  the  bay  —  that's  why  I  took  the  apart- 
ments I  did.  Are  you  ready,  Horace?" 

"  Ready,"  said  Mr.  Cooper,  with  an  alacrity  that 
might  be  partly  attributable  to  the  unprecedented  use 
of  his  Christian  name  —  Miss  Sandiloe's  not  too  subtle 
retaliation  for  Lady  Rossiter's  frequent  "  Mark." 

"  Come  along,  Ruthie,"  said  Mark  Easter.  "  We'll 
walk  with  you  part  of  the  way  if  we  may,  Miss 
Farmer." 

The  teacher  looked  pleased,  and  they  followed  Miss 
Sandiloe  and  her  admirer,  Mark  adjusting  his  long, 
easy  stride  to  the  very  obvious  limitations  of  Miss 
Farmer's  patent-leather  shoes. 

Edna  looked  after  them,  wearing  a  rather  exhausted 
expression. 


44  TENSION 

"  I  am  very  tired,  Julian.  I  shall  go  to  the  boudoir 
and  enjoy  the  silence  till  it's  time  to  dress.  Nothing 
is  so  restful  as  complete  silence,  after  all." 

Julian  honoured  the  assertion  by  making  no  reply  to 
it  whatever. 

"  I  have  been  told,"  said  Edna,  with  gentle  solem- 
nity, "  that  my  spirit  is  burning  itself  away.  I  know 
you  don't  sympathise  with  that  necessity  for  pouring 
out,  Julian  —  this  afternoon,  for  instance,  has  taken  a 
great  deal  out  of  me  —  but  I  noticed  that  you  gave  out 
nothing  at  all  —  not  one  spark.  Isn't  it  rather  a  pity  ? 
One  can  do  so  little,  materially,  but  the  things  of  the 
spirit  .  .  .  Ah,  well,  I  grudge  none  of  it." 

She  went  upstairs,  however,  very  slowly,  and  leaning 
heavily  upon  the  banisters. 

Julian's  gaze  did  not  follow  her. 


IV 


E  found  a  treasure,"  Mark  Easter  enthusi- 
astically told  Sir  Julian.  "  Miss  Marchrose  is  the  best 
worker  I've  ever  struck.  And  she'll  do  anything  — 
doesn't  mind  what  she  turns  her  hand  to.  You'll  have 
to  see  her,  Sir  Julian  —  dashed  good-looking  girl  into 
the  bargain." 

Sir  Julian  was  not  insensible  to  the  attraction  of  the 
last  qualification,  but  he  felt  no  security  of  endorsing 
Mark  Easter's  ready  acclamation  of  a  pretty  face.  His 
own  taste  was  eclectic  and  the  witless  pink  and  white, 
the  unsubtle  contours  that  constitute  the  ideal  feminine 
to  the  average  Englishman,  held  no  appeal  for  him. 

He  soon  saw  Miss  Marchrose  at  the  College,  in  the 
room  adjoining  Fuller's  office  that  had  been  designed 
for  the  personal  use  of  the  Lady  Superintendent. 

She  was  talking  to  Mark  Easter,  standing  beside 
him  in  the  window,  and  the  afternoon  sun  struck  full 
upon  her,  revealing  every  little  finely-drawn  line  of 
fatigue  round  her  eyes  and  mouth. 

Sir  Julian's  first  sensation  was  of  involuntary,  sur- 
prised satisfaction  at  the  slim,  tall  distinction  of  her 
whole  bearing;  the  next,  one  of  surprise  at  Mark 
Easter's  verdict  on  her  looks. 

"  Ten  years  ago,  perhaps,"  he  reflected.  "  Now  she 
probably  varies  according  to  her  state  of  health.  But 
she'll  never  be  called  pretty." 

45 


46  TENSION 

Nevertheless,  it  seemed  to  him  easy  enough  to  trace 
a  softer,  rounder  contour  to  the  oval  face,  and  to  erase 
in  imagination  the  shadows  underlying  black  brows 
and  hazel  eyes,  and  the  tiny,  indelible  marks  that  some 
past  bitterness  had  left  at  either  corner  of  the  closely- 
curved  mouth  that  was  Miss  Marchrose's  most  unde- 
niably beautiful  feature. 

Her  hair  was  brown,  a  soft  dead-leaf  colour  that  held 
no  gleams  of  light  and  framed  her  square  forehead 
loosely.  Julian,  looking  at  her,  received  the  impression 
that  her  face  held  possibilities  full  of  colour  and  ani- 
mation, and  yet  was  more  often  only  faintly  coloured, 
and  shadowed  with  weariness. 

"  Charming  at  eighteen  —  and  probably  not  ad- 
mired, except  by  an  occasional  connoisseur  —  and  now 
absolutely  dependent  for  looks  on  the  state  of  her 
vitality,"  he  summarised  her  to  himself. 

But  he  ceased  to  entertain  any  doubts  as  to  the  vital- 
ity of  Miss  Marchrose  when  he  heard  her  speak. 

At  the  first  sound  of  her  voice  he  recognised  that 
therein  lay  the  charm  which  had  made  Mark  Easter  de- 
clare her  to  be  good-looking.  The  soft  beauty  of  a 
woman's  speaking  voice  such  as  that  of  Miss  March- 
rose  might  well  prove  responsible  for  greater  delusions. 

The  contrast  between  the  extraordinarily  musical  in- 
flexions of  her  tones  and  their  rather  curt,  business- 
like utterances  almost  amused  Julian. 

He  remembered  Fuller's  complacent  recommenda- 
tion, "  Hard  as  nails,  I  should  think,"  and  surmised 
that  Miss  Marchrose  had  addressed  him  with  the  same 
abrupt,  impersonal  manner. 

Unlike  the  majority  of  women,  she  seldom  smiled. 
When  she  did  so  —  and  presently  Julian  noticed  that 


TENSION  47 

Mark  Easter  could  elicit  that  quick,  soft  change  of  ex- 
pression more  often  than  anyone  else  —  it  altered  the 
character  of  her  face  very  much,  and  made  her  look 
much  younger,  and  rather  appealing. 

Her  powers  of  organisation  were  admirable  and,  as 
Mark  had  said,  she  was  ready  to  concentrate  her  whole 
energies  upon  her  work,  indifferent,  apparently,  to  the 
after-office  hours  which  constituted  the  whole  reality 
of  life  for  those  who  only  lived  through  the  day's  busi- 
ness in  order  to  attain  their  freedom  at  the  end  of  it. 

"  I  hope  you  have  found  comfortable  accommodation 
in  Culmouth,"  Sir  Julian  said  to  her. 

"  Yes,  thank  you." 

Miss  Marchrose  appeared  so  little  expectant  of  any 
further  interest  in  her  welfare  that  Julian  almost  won- 
dered whether  her  definition  of  officiousness  might  not 
prove  to  coincide  with  his  own. 

A  month  after  her  arrival,  however,  Mark  Easter 
told  the  Rossiters  that  Miss  Marchrose  was  lodging  at 
a  farm  outside  Culmouth,  nearly  half  an  hour's  walk 
from  the  College. 

"  It  wouldn't  be  far  for  her  to  come  over  here,  if 
you  thought  of  asking  her,  Lady  Rossiter,"  said  Mark. 
"  I'm  afraid  she  must  be  rather  lonely,  for  she  knows 
no  one  down  here." 

"  I  wonder  why  she  came  here,"  Edna  remarked. 

"  For  love  of  the  country,  I  think,"  Mark  answered, 
with  sufficient  assurance  in  the  assertion  to  make  Julian 
wonder  if  he  had  received  a  confidence. 

"  I  want  to  know  this  Miss  Marchrose,"  said  Lady 
Rossiter  with  decision.  "  I  think  I  must  go  to  the 
College  to-morrow  —  I  have  been  quite  a  long  time 
without  seeing  any  of  my  friends  there.  Dear  Mr. 


48  TENSION 

Fuller !  I  love  Mr.  Fuller  —  he  and  I  have  such  long 
talks  over  the  welfare  of  the  staff." 

"  I  shall  be  in  there  all  day  to-morrow.  Won't  you 
look  in  and  let  Miss  Marchrose  give  you  a  cup  of  tea?  " 
said  Mark. 

"Of  course  I  will.  They  love  dispensing  a  little 
hospitality,  don't  they,  and  I'm  always  most  ceremoni- 
ous about  returning  their  calls  here.  Not  that  Miss 
Marchrose  has  come  over  yet  with  the  others." 

Mark  looked  a  little  perplexed,  and  Julian,  unex- 
pectedly even  to  himself,  said  rather  curtly  : 

1  You  won't  be  able  to  ask  her  to  make  one  of 
your  Sunday  Band  of  Hope  expeditions,  Edna." 

"  No?  "  said  his  wife,  still  smiling.  "  I  know  there 
are  wheels  within  wheels,  and  one  reason,  I  think,  why 
they  trust  me  is  that  I  respect  all  the  little  prejudices 
and  etiquettes  that  mean  so  much  to  them.  Give  Miss 
Marchrose  due  warning,  Mark,  will  you,  that  I  shall 
call  at  tea-time  to-morrow  and  see  if  she  is  not  too 
busy  to  let  me  have  some  tea.  I  want  to  get  into 
touch  with  all  of  them,  you  know." 

Julian,  in  rather  grim  anticipation  of  the  process  as 
regarded  Miss  Marchrose,  announced  his  intention  next 
day  of  accompanying  his  wife  to  the  College. 

"  My  dear,  I  am  not  often  honoured,  but  shall  we 
not  rather  overwhelm  the  young  woman  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  she  is  easily  overwhelmed." 

Edna  laughed  musically  —  that  is  to  say,  Sir  Julian 
felt  convinced  that  she  herself  so  designated  the  low, 
controlled  sound  of  amusement  that  she  so  seldom 
enough  judged  it  a  propos  to  emit. 

But  her  voice  was  very  serious  the  next  instant,  and 
had  even  dropped  a  semitone,  as  she  made  enquiry : 


TENSION  49 

"  Julian,  can  you  tell  me  yet  whether  she  is  really 
connected  with  poor  Clarence's  tragedy  ?  " 

"  No,  certainly  not  • —  I  haven't  tried  to  find 
out." 

"  I  wonder  why,  when  you  knew  that  the  whole  ques- 
tion touched  me  very  nearly.  Nothing  has  much 
sacredness  to  you,  Julian,  has  it?  " 

"  I  see  nothing  sacred  in  the  amorous  extravagances 
of  your  cousin  Clarence,  certainly." 

"  And  you  care  very  little  whether  the  woman  who 
is  charged  with  the  welfare  of  all  those  young  men 
and  women  — -  sharers,  after  all,  of  our  common  hu- 
manity —  can  give  them  true,  pure-hearted  love  and 
service  and  fellowship,"  mused  Edna.  "  And  yet  to 
me  those  ideals  which  you  dismiss  so  lightly  seem  the 
most  important  things  in  all  the  world.  You  see, 
Julian,  love  seems  to  me  to  matter  more  than  anything 
in  the  whole  world." 

"  In  the  case  of  a  Lady  Superintendent  for  the  Col- 
lege, a  knowledge  of  shorthand  is  more  important," 
said  Julian  indifferently. 

He  had  long  since  fallen  into  the  habit  of  uttering 
the  cheap  jeers  that  had  once  inadequately  served  to 
protect  him  from  blatant  references  that  now  had  al- 
most lost  effect. 

"  God  forbid  that  I  should  condemn  anyone  —  who 
am  I,  to  judge  of  another?  —  but  I  can't  pretend  to 
you,  Julian,  that  it  won't  become  a  question  of  con- 
science with  me,  if  I  find  that  a  position  of  such  re- 
sponsibility towards  my  boys  and  girls  is  held  by  a 
woman  who  could  throw  a  man  over  heartlessly,  break 
her  given  pledge,  just  at  the  moment  when  he  was  more 
in  need  of  her  than  ever  before." 


50  TENSION 

"If  she  was  heartless,  he  may  have  been  well  rid 
of  her,  as  I  said  before." 

"  At  what  a  cost !  His  first  faith  shattered,  poor 
boy.  You  remember  what  that  nurse  told  me  about 
him." 

"  I  remember  perfectly,  but  I  should  think  both 
Clarence  Isbister  and  the  girl  he  married  would  very 
much  rather  have  it  forgotten." 

"  I  don't  forget  easily,  Julian." 

"  Then  in  kindness  to  Clarence,  I  should  advise  you 
to  keep  your  recollections  to  yourself.  I  doubt  if  he 
would  thank  you  or  anyone  else  for  reminding  the 
world  that  he  ever  saw  fit  to  beat  a  tattoo  with  his 
head  on  the  walls  of  his  nursing-home  for  the  sake 
of  a  young  woman  whom  he  afterwards  forgot  all 
about." 

"  We  can  never  tell  that.  Certain  wounds  do  not 
heal,  although  they  may  be  hidden  from  sight." 

"  Then  I'm  sorry  for  Mrs.  Clarence." 

"  I  wonder  if  Miss  Marchrose  knows  that  he  has 
married,"  said  Edna,  rather  viciously. 

"  I  wish  you  would  not  take  it  for  granted  that  this 
is  the  same  woman,"  said  Julian  irritably. 

Edna  laid  two  fingers  upon  his  sleeve  in  a  manner 
designed  to  emphasise  her  words. 

"  I  shall  take  nothing  for  granted.  But  you  see, 
Julian,  I  can't  take  life  quite  as  you  do  —  quite  as 
callously,  as  cynically.  There  is  a  big  responsibility 
for  those  of  us  who  see  a  little  —  ah,  such  a  very  little 
way  it  is  —  further  into  the  heart  of  things.  We  can 
only  hope,  and  give,  and  spend  ourselves  —  and  judge 


TENSION  51 

Julian,  who  disliked  being  touched,  moved  his  arm 
out  of  reach,  and  replied  to  these  humanitarian  senti- 
ments unsympathetically. 

"  Your  remarks  have  not  the  slightest  bearing  upon 
the  case,  Edna." 

He  thought  to  himself  bitterly,  not  for  the  first  time, 
that  a  stronger  man  would  reject  the  weapons  of 
obvious,  meaningless  satire,  but  nervous  irritability 
again  and  again  drove  him  to  seek  an  outlet  in  words 
that  he  despised. 

In  silence,  he  entered  the  College  with  Edna,  and 
let  her  proceed  to  the  Supervisor's  room,  aware  that 
he  had  purposely  timed  their  arrival  for  an  hour  when 
Fairfax  Fuller  would  be  engaged  in  one  of  the  class- 
rooms. Few  things  discomposed  Mr.  Fuller  more 
than  a  feminine  intrusion  which  could  not  be  accounted 
for  by  a  question  of  business. 

"  He  will  be  disappointed/'  seriously  said  Edna, 
turning  away  from  the  empty  room.  "  But  we  shall 
have  other  talks.  I  don't  despair  yet  of  getting  Fuller 
to  Culmhayes,  for  all  his  misogyny."  It  was  a  prin- 
ciple with  Lady  Rossiter,  her  husband  knew,  never  to 
allow  their  differences  to  degenerate  into  an  offended 
silence  when  they  were  alone. 

He  sometimes  thought  that  he  could  have  borne  it 
all  better  had  she  been  a  woman  to  make  scenes,  and 
to  oppose  him  with  tears  or  temper,  instead  of  with 
that  considered,  brightly-unconscious,  eternal  loving- 
kindness. 

They  found  Miss  Marchrose  in  her  own  room,  at 
work  on  the  typewriter.  She  wore  a  long  blue  pina- 
fore, and  Julian  noticed  with  an  odd  satisfaction  that 


52  TENSION 

this  was  one  of  the  days  when  her  variable  face  showed 
colour  and  unmistakable  beauty. 

"  Good  afternoon,"  said  Julian.  "  I  hope  we  are 
not  too  early.  My  wife  —  Miss  Marchrose." 

Lady  Rossiter,  shaking  hands,  revealed  her  rather 
large  white  teeth  in  a  smile,  but  Miss  Marchrose,  after 
her  fashion,  remained  calmly  serious. 

"  Won't  you  sit  down?  " 

Lady  Rossiter  glanced  slowly  round  the  room. 

It  was  a  large  light  office,  the  window  thrown  open 
and  looking  on  to  the  square  paved  court  at  the  back 
of  the  house;  the  furniture  scanty  and  of  the  most 
utilitarian  description. 

Miss  Marchrose's  writing-table  was  orderly,  al- 
though papers  were  stacked  upon  it  in  wicker  trays. 
A  telephone  with  a  glass  mouthpiece  stood  at  one 
corner  and  an  electric  reading-lamp  at  the  other. 

The  typewriter  had  a  very  small  table  to  itself,  and 
a  high  chair  with  a  small  cushion  placed  in  front  of 
it.  Except  for  three  or  four  chairs  and  a  strip  of 
carpet,  there  was  no  other  furniture  in  the  room. 

"  I've  not  seen  this  room  furnished  before,"  Edna 
Rossiter  observed.  '  You've  hardly  had  time  for  the 
finishing  touches  yet,  though,  have  you?  " 

Her  tone  was  that  of  assertion,  not  of  enquiry,  but 
Miss  Marchrose  replied  as  though  to  a  question. 

"  I'm  afraid  there  isn't  anything  more  to  come.  Mr. 
Fuller  has  kindly  let  me  have  everything  I  want." 

"Even  to  a  glass  mouthpiece  for  the  telephone?" 
enquired  Edna  smoothly. 

A  similar  adornment  distinguished  her  own  tele- 
phone in  the  boudoir  at  Culmhayes,  and  Julian  knew 


TENSION  53 

that  his  wife  frequently  drew  attention  to  it  by  apol- 
ogies for  her  own  fastidiousness. 

"  That  was  brought  by  Mr.  Easter.  I  used  to  dis- 
like the  old  one  so  much,  and  he  found  it  out,  and  very 
kindly  gave  me  that." 

"  I  shall  talk  to  Mr.  Easter  about  infringing  my 
patent,"  laughed  Edna.  She  turned  to  her  husband. 

"  Mark  must  have  seen  the  glass  one  in  my  boudoir, 
of  course." 

Julian  was  perfectly  aware  of  the  instinct  which 
had  prompted  his  wife  to  make  use,  in  addressing  her- 
self to  him,  of  Mark  Easter's  first  name. 

He  smiled  rather  grimly. 

"  I  think  you  must  have  some  flowers  in  here,"  Edna 
said  to  Miss  Marchrose.  "  It  does  make  all  the  differ- 
ence, doesn't  it,  when  one  is  chained  to  a  desk  all  day?  " 

"  But  I'm  not  chained  to  a  desk,"  said  Miss  March- 
rose  tranquilly.  "  I  take  two  or  three  classes,  and 
I'm  very  often  in  Mr.  Fuller's  room.  Besides,  I  don't 
like  flowers  in  an  office;  do  you?  " 

"  Ah,  well,"  said  Edna,  in  a  voice  the  measured 
graciousness  of  which  contrasted  with  the  Superin- 
tendent's matter-of-fact  utterance,  "  flowers  mean 
rather  a  lot  to  me.  I'm  not  happy  unless  I  have  a 
great  many  all  round  me.  .  .  .  But  I  know  many  peo- 
ple simply  look  on  flowers  as  flowers,  of  course.  Tell 
me,  do  you  care  for  out-of-doors?  " 

Miss  Marchrose  looked  unintelligent. 

"  Because  I  have  some  little  nature-classes,  as  we 
call  them,  for  looking  into  the  heart  of  our  West 
Country  rather  more  closely.  One  week  I  take  my 
little  band  down  to  the  sea,  another  time  up  to  the 


54  TENSION 

woods,  sometimes  just  to  study  the  wonderful  colour 
in  a  Devonshire  lane.  I  can't  help  thinking  you  might 
find  a  great  deal  to  admire  round  Duckpool  Farm. 
Isn't  that  where  you're  staying?  " 

"  Yes.  I  hope  you're  going  to  let  me  give  you  some 
tea,  Lady  Rossiter.'' 

"  Presently,  but  you  mustn't  let  us  put  you  out. 
Don't  alter  anything  —  I  love  taking  things  just  as  I 
find  them.  .  .  .  But  tell  me  why  you  went  to  the  farm ; 
I  thought  it  rather  wonderful  of  you  to  strike  out  such 
a  new  line,  instead  of  going  to  rooms  in  Church  Street 
or  St.  Mary-Welcome's,  as  they  all  do." 

u  There  are  no  rooms  vacant  in  Church  Street,  I 
believe,"  said  Miss  Marchrose,  very  curtly  indeed. 

Julian  felt  convinced  that  she  wished  the  implication 
made  that  had  rooms  been  available  she  would  have 
selected  them,  and  equally  certain  that  the  implication 
would  have  been  untrue. 

"  Is  Easter  here  to-day?  "  he  enquired  abruptly. 

"  Yes ;  I'll  let  him  know  you've  come.  He  generally 
has  tea  in  here,  and  so  does  Mr.  Fuller." 

She  went  to  the  telephone. 

"  You  mustn't  let  us  interrupt  your  work  if  there's 
anything  you  want  to  finish  before  tea,"  Edna  told  her. 
"  I  know  what  it  means  to  all  of  you  to  get  through  by 
six  o'clock  sharp,  especially  in  these  late  summer  even- 
ings when  it's  already  getting  dark  early.  It  must  be 
too  cruel  to  be  robbed  of  even  a  few  moments  of  fresh 
air  and  liberty." 

Julian  remembered  Mark's  eulogies. 

"  What  time  do  you  leave  the  College,  I  wonder  ?  " 
he  asked  her,  smiling  slightly. 

"  It  depends  on  the  work.     There's  been  a  good  deal 


TENSION  55 

of  correspondence  lately  and  I've  stayed  late  to  finish 
it  up.  If  I  may,  there  is  just  something  I  want  to 
finish  here." 

She  laid  her  hand  on  the  typewriter. 

"  Please  do." 

Without  further  apology,  Miss  Marchrose  sat  down 
to  her  machine  and  completed  the  sheet  upon  which  she 
had  been  engaged.  As  she  drew  it  off  the  roller,  Mark 
Easter  came  in. 

She  looked  up  with  a  sort  of  pleasure  in  her  glance, 
and  handed  him  a  thin  pile  of  foolscap  sheets. 

"  Five  copies,"  she  said. 

Mark  glanced  at  the  papers. 

"  I'm  so  grateful !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  That's  exactly 
what  I  wanted.  Do  you  know  what  that  is,  Sir 
Julian?" 

"What?" 

"  Estate  business,"  laughed  Mark.  "  Miss  March- 
rose  is  good  enough  to  help  me  through  with  some  of 
it,  as  she  only  works  ten  hours  a  day  here." 

"  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself  for  letting 
her  do  it." 

"  Well,"  said  Miss  Marchrose  gaily,  "  he  boils  my 
kettle  for  me." 

Mark  had  placed  the  big  kettle  on  the  gas-ring  and 
cleared  the  table  of  the  heavy  typewriter. 

He  was  in  his  usual  excellent  spirits,  and  made  in- 
different jokes  at  which  Miss  Marchrose  laughed  with 
an  absence  of  constraint  such  as  Julian  had  not  seen  in 
her  before.  It  was  evident  that  Mark's  gift  for  mak- 
ing friends  had  not  failed  him,  any  more  than  his 
magical  capacity  for  diffusing  contentment  throughout 
his  surroundings. 


56  TENSION 

Contentment,  however,  stopped  short  at  Lady  Ros- 
siter,  as  it  was  always  apt  to  do  when  the  focus  of 
general  attention  was  diverted  to  an  object  which  she 
considered  unworthy. 

"Isn't  Mr.  Fuller  coming  in  to  tea?"  She  quietly 
interrupted  Mark's  exchange  of  chaffing  allusions  with 
Miss  Marchrose. 

"  He  generally  comes.  I'll  go  and  dig  him  out," 
Mark  volunteered. 

"  Your  presence  has  frightened  him  away,  Edna," 
said  her  husband,  not  without  malice.  "  Fuller  is  a 
shy  bird." 

Edna  smiled  serenely. 

"  Poor  Mr.  Fuller,  he  and  I  are  great  friends." 

It  might  be  doubted  whether  Lady  Rossiter  found 
cause  for  thankfulness  in  the  presence  of  her  great 
friend  when  he  eventually  joined  the  tea-party,  his  face 
black  with  scowls  at  the  interruption  to  his  work  and 
suffused  with  shyness  at  her  complacent  greeting. 

Miss  Marchrose  poured  out  tea  and  talked  to  Julian, 
who  sat  next  her,  and  Mark,  to  whom  self -conscious- 
ness was  unknown,  handed  plates  of  bread-and-butter 
and. cut  up  a  small  plum-cake  and  endeavoured  to  win 
smiles  from  the  recalcitrant  Fuller.  Edna,  her  voice 
modulated  to  careful  sweetness,  manufactured  kindly 
conversation. 

But  Mr.  Fuller,  his  elbows  very  much  squared  and 
his  bullet  head  thrust  well  forward,  devoted  his  energies 
to  the  rapid  demolition  of  his  meal,  and  replied  mono- 
syllabically  to  Mark's  kindly  derision  and  Lady  Ros- 
siter's  benevolences  alike.  His  shyness,  however,  ap- 
peared to  place  him  under  a  mysterious  compulsion  to 
recite  aloud,  in  an  inward  voice,  any  scrap  of  printed 


TENSION  57 

matter  upon  which  his  eye  chanced  to  fall,  regardless 
of  relevance.  This  necessity,  though  common  enough 
in  any  assembly  of  not  too  congenial  strangers,  did  not 
add  to  continuity  of  discourse. 

As  thus,  when  Lady  Rossiter  moved  a  pot  of  plum 
jam  towards  him,  saying  that  she  was  so  sorry  that 
the  injunction  to  make  no  difference  had  not  been  at- 
tended to,  Mr.  Fuller  was  constrained  to  reply  in  a 
very  severe  way,  No ;  he  never  ate  jam  —  Three  gold 
medals  at  the  Paris  and  Vienna  Exhibitions  —  but  it 
was  there  every  day,  he  believed. 

"  It  is  there,  because  /  like  it,"  said  Miss  Marchrose. 
'  They  never  had  anything  but  bread-and-butter  till  I 
came." 

Edna's  ever-ready  eyebrows  went  up,  but  she  still 
addressed  herself  exclusively  to  Fairfax  Fuller. 

"  Plum  jam  is  quite  my  favourite.  I  never  really 
care  for  the  expensive  varieties,  or  think  them  a  bit 
better  than  the  others." 

"  Inspection  invited  at  the  manufactories/'  Fuller 
pursued  his  way,  almost  turning  the  jam-pot  upside 
down  in  an  apparently  agonised  search  for  further 
literature. 

"  Jam  on  bread-and-butter  is  quite  a  luxury.  Julian 
and  I  never  get  it  at  home,"  Lady  Rossiter  persevered. 

"  London,  Edinburgh,  and  at  Sharplington  in  Es- 
sex," said  Fuller,  without  looking  at  her. 

"  Have  you  ever  been  over  one  of  those  big  fac- 
tories? It  would  be  rather  interesting,"  Mark  said, 
in  a  charitable  endeavour  to  introduce  some  element  of 
continuity  into  the  conversation.  Lady  Rossiter  at 
once  seconded  the  attempt. 

"  I've  always  so  wished  to  have  an  opportunity  of 


58  TENSION 

that  sort.  I  should  like  to  know  just  how  the  poor 
factory  hands  live,  and  what  the  conditions  of  work 
really  are  in  those  great  places." 

"  I  don't  suppose  that  Sharplington  in  Essex  is  on 
the  same  scale  as  London  or  Edinburgh,"  Mark  sug- 
gested. 

At  which  interesting  initial  stage  of  an  interchange 
of  views,  Mr.  Fuller  suddenly  disconcerted  everybody 
by  looking  straight  across  the  table  at  the  almanack 
which  hung  upon  the  wall,  and  declaring  with  a  sort 
of  suppressed  violence : 

"  Five  thousand  souls  gained  last  year  alone  —  The 
Church  Mission  Society." 

Edna's  pale  skin  absolutely  flushed  and  she  set  her 
lips.  Mark  hastily  bent  down  to  pick  up  an  imaginary 
handkerchief,  and  Miss  Marchrose  laughed. 

"That's  settled  it,"  thought  Julian.  "Edna  will 
never  forgive  her  that  laugh." 

He  saw  no  reason  to  reverse  the  judgment  while  his 
wife  took  her  cool,  kindly  farewell  of  the  Lady  Super- 
intendent. 

"  You  must  come  out  to  Culmhayes  one  day.  Of 
course,  I  know  Saturday  afternoons  and  Sundays  are 
your  only  free  times,  so  I  never  issue  workday  invita- 
tions. But  I'm  always  so  glad  to  see  any  of  you,  and 
you  can  just  rest  and  do  anything  you  please,  and  not 
feel  obliged  to  make  conversation." 

Julian  watched  the  recipient  of  these  attentions 
rather  curiously.  - 

She  withdrew  her  hand  from  Lady  Rossiter's  kind, 
enveloping  clasp  and  put  it  into  the  pocket  of  her  pina- 
fore very  deliberately. 

"  On  Saturdays  I'm  going  to  the  estate  office  with 


TENSION  59 

you,  I  hope.  Didn't  we  arrange  that?"  she  asked 
Mark  Easter. 

"If  you  have  nothing  better  to  do,  I  should  be  most 
grateful.  Everything  is  in  confusion  there,  since  my 
clerk  had  to  leave  on  account  of  sudden  illness." 

"  I  shall  like  it  very  much,"  said  Miss  Marchrose, 
with  a  very  charming  smile,  and  still  addressing  her- 
self exclusively  to  Mark.  "  And  I've  nothing  better  to 
do  at  all,  thank  you." 

Julian,  while  inwardly  applauding  her,  wondered 
whether  she  had  herself  been  entirely  aware  of  the  full 
efficiency  of  the  oblique  retaliation. 

On  the  whole,  he  thought  that  she  had. 


V 

As  Julian  pursued  his  acquaintance  with  Miss 
Marchrose  —  and  he  was  by  no  means  minded  to  let  it 
drop  —  he  came  more  and  more  to  the  conclusion  that 
she  had  been  quite  as  conscious  as  himself  of  the 
mutual  antagonism  which  Edna  and  she  had  roused 
in  one  another  on  the  rather  disastrous  occasion  of 
their  meeting. 

She  neither  came  over  to  Culmhayes  nor  showed 
any  disposition  to  join  Lady  Rossitef's  cherished 
nature-classes,  the  final  sessions  of  which  were  drawing 
near  with  the  approach  of  the  colder  weather. 

Julian  saw  her  at  the  College,  where  she  worked 
hard  and  successfully,  and  once  or  twice  at  his  own 
estate  office,  where  she  frequently  replaced  Mark 
Easter's  absent  clerk. 

"  I  don't  know  that  we  ought  to  let  you  spend  so 
much  time  here,  though  it  is  quite  invaluable  to  the 
business,"  he  once  said  to  her. 

To  which  Miss  Marchrose  returned  very  candidly 
that  it  was  always  the  greatest  possible  p^asure  to  her 
to  do  anything  for  Mr.  Easter. 

Julian  quite  believed  it. 

The  friendship  established  between  her  and  Mark 
was  founded  on  excellent  good  comradeship,  a  mutual 
respect  for  one  another's  power  of  work,  and  the  very 
admirable  sense  of  humour  possessed  by  each. 

60 


TENSION  61 

Julian,  watching  the  frank  gaiety  of  her  manner  as 
she  came  to  accept  him  in  the  light  of  Mark's  friend 
instead  of  merely  as  a  director  of  the  College,  found 
himself  wondering  from  time  to  time  if  Miss  March- 
rose,  sharp-tongued  and  quick-witted,  apt  at  satire 
even  at  her  gentlest,  could  by  any  possibility  ever  have 
been  the  heroine  where  Captain  Clarence  Isbister, 
youthful,  sporting,  and  essentially  British,  had  once 
been  the  hero.  His  wife  appeared  inclined  to  let  the 
question  rest,  and  Julian  had  no  desire  to  remind  her 
of  it;  but  for  the  satisfaction  of  his  own  curiosity,  he 
told  himself,  he  would  have  liked  to  establish  the  proof 
or  otherwise  of  Fuller's  verdict  to  which  he  was  only 
half  inclined  to  subscribe  —  "  hard  as  nails." 

It  was  Edna,  however,  who  returned  to  the  charge 
of  Miss  Marchrose's  identity. 

"  I  might  have  known  it,"  her  husband  reflected. 

He  heard  with  his  accustomed  phlegm  of  manner, 
that  Edna,  conducting  the  nature-class  through  a  cer- 
tain small  wood  just  off  the  Rossiter  estate,  in  order  to 
introduce  it  to  a  sunset  effect  visible  through  the  beech- 
trees,  had  met  with  an  interruption  before  anyone  had 
had  time  to  do  more  than  ejaculate  a  preliminary 
"Wonderful!" 

"  They  are  apt  to  be  a  shade  blatant,  poor  dears ! 
and  talk  about  the  sun  looking  like  a  ball  of  fire  in 
the  sky  and  that  sort  of  thing." 

:<  You  could  scarcely  ask  for  a  more  accurate  de- 
scription, after  all,"  murmured  Julian. 

"  But  what  one's  there  for,  of  course,  is  to  get  them 
to  see  a  little  deeper,  a  little  more  into  the  heart  of 
Nature's  beauty  and  wonderful,  wonderful  tenderness. 
I  wanted  to  show  them  the  glint  of  red  on  the  stems 


62  TENSION 

of  those  trees,  and  the  miracle  of  hush  that  comes  over 
the  world  just  as  the  sun  goes  down.  .  .  ." 

Lady  Rossiter  paused,  absorbed  in  the  regretful  ret- 
rospect of  the  showman  whose  curtain  has  accidentally 
come  down  with  a  run  in  the  midst  of  his  star  per- 
former's best  turn. 

"Well,  what  happened?  Did  the  sun  refuse  to  go 
down  after  all?"  was  Julian's  rather  ribald  interrup- 
tion to  her  thoughts. 

"  The  sun  was  in  the  most  exquisite  blaze  of  red  and 
gold,  and  one  could  only  hold  one's  breath  in  awe  at 
the  most  wonderful  pageant  the  world  can  show,  when 
that  Marchrose  woman  from  Culmouth  College  came 
crashing  through  the  undergrowth,  ringing  a  bicycle- 
bell,  and  with  her  back  —  actually,  her  back  —  to  that 
sunset !  " 

"  What  did  you  do?"  asked  Julian,  with  consider- 
able interest. 

Lady  Rossiter  made  the  strangely  contradictory 
statement  that  her  sex,  when  describing  the  character 
of  a  crisis,  so  frequently  appears  compelled  to  proffer. 

"  I  didn't  say  one  word,  Julian.  I  felt  that  I  sim- 
ply couldn't  have  spoken.  I  couldn't  help  holding  up 
my  hand  and  saying  very  quietly  indeed :  '  Ah,  hush ! 
Can't  you  feel  that  it  hurts,  somehow,  to  disturb  such  a 
moment  as  this  ? '  It  was  such  hideous  profanity, 
Julian!" 

"Did  you  tell  her  so?" 

"  I  could  never  say  anything  that  would  deliberately 
hurt  another,"  Lady  Rossiter  made  grave  reply. 
"  But  I  laid  my  hand  on  that  terrible  bicycle,  and  the 
girl  had  to  keep  still  for  a  minute  or  two." 

"Was  she  angry?" 


TENSION  63 

"  I  hope  I  sent  out  some  calming,  loving  thoughts, 
for  the  whole  evening  was  terribly  jarred,  one  could 
feel  it.  Poor  foolish,  defiant  creature!  I  could  see 
her  hands  shaking,  as  she  tried  to  take  her  machine 
from  me.  I  couldn't  let  her  go  like  that,  of  course, 
and  I  tried  to  say  a  little  something,  very  quietly,  about 
the  glory  of  God's  own  evening  light  all  round  us. 
But  she  kept  her  back  to  the  sunset  all  the  time. 

"  And,  Julian,  to  my  dismay  and  astonishment,  she 
was  not  alone.  Mark  was  with  her." 

"Why  shouldn't  he  be?" 

"  Have  you  forgotten  my  poor  Clarence  so  soon?" 
reproachfully  enquired  Lady  Rossiter,  whose  cousinly 
affection  for  her  poor  Clarence  appeared  to  increase  by 
leaps  and  bounds  in  proportion  to  the  growth  of  her 
disesteem  for  Miss  Marchrose. 

"  Clarence  has  nothing  to  do  with  it.  The  cir- 
cumstances are  entirely  dissimilar." 

"  We  can't  tell  that  in  the  case  of  a  woman  whom 
I  must,  much  as  I  dislike  uttering  any  shadow  of  con- 
demnation, call  utterly  heartless.  Shall  I  ever  forget 
what  that  hospital  nurse  told  me  of  poor  Clarence's 
state  of  mind  after  that  heartless  betrayal- — 

"  In  any  circumstances,  Edna,  Mark  isn't  in  the 
least  likely  to  knock  his  head  against  the  walls  of  the 
cottage,  and  if  he  does,  they  will  very  probably  fall 
about  his  ears.  I  wish  he  would  attend  to  his  own 
house,  before  doing  up  the  tenants' !  Those  children 
have  nearly  broken  down  the  whole  of  the  garden 
palings.  But  go  on  —  did  you  achieve  any  rapproche- 
ment between  Mark  and  the  sunset,  or  was  he  also 
ringing  bicycle-bells  and  turning  his  back  on  it  ?  " 

"  Mark  made  some  foolish  explanation  about  seeing 


64  TENSION 

the  girl  back  to  Duckpool  Farm,  but  they  were  evidently 
walking,  and  pushing  the  bicycle  between  them." 

"  I  don't  see  how  they  could  do  anything  else,  if 
there  was  only  one  bicycle,"  said  Julian,  idly  desirous 
of  making  more  obvious  a  want  of  sympathy  that  was 
already  perfectly  well  en  evidence. 

"  You  may  not  understand  it,  Julian,  but  Mark  is 
very  dear  to  me.  To  you  he  may  be  merely  a  good 
fellow,  and  an  excellent  estate  agent,  but  to  me  he  has 
been  something  more  ever  since  that  ghastly  tragedy 
of  his  wife.  I  gave  him  all  the  help  that  a  woman 
could  give,  then,  and  I  can't  ever  forget  it.  I  can't 
let  Mark  break  his  heart  a  second  time.  Not  that  she's 
attractive,  or  even  pretty,"  said  Edna,  distinctly  divided 
between  her  determination  to  exploit  Mark  Easter's 
peril  and  her  reluctance  to  allow  to  Miss  Marchrose 
any  of  the  usual  advantages  attributed  to  a  charmer 
of  men.  .  .  . 

"  I  know  no  one  less  likely  than  Mark  Easter  to  make 
a  fool  of  himself  in  that  particular  way,"  said  Julian 
emphatically. 

"  It's  not  Mark  that  I'm  afraid  of,"  inconsistently 
said  Lady  Rossiter.  "  A  friendship  with  a  good,  true 
woman  is  often  a  man's  best  safeguard." 

Julian  wondered  whether  it  would  be  worth  while 
to  simulate  a  belief  that  the  good,  true  woman  in 
question  was  Miss  Marchrose,  but  Edna  left  him  no 
time  to  adopt  this  amiable  pose. 

"  I  am  going  to  find  out  once  and  for  all  whether 
that  girl  —  I  suppose  she  calls  herself  a  girl  —  is  really 
poor  Clarence's  evil  genius  or  not.  Personally,  I  be- 
lieve she  is." 


TENSION  65 

Julian  left  it  at  that,  not  desirous  of  sparing  his 
wife  the  trouble  of  her  proposed  investigation  by  tell- 
ing her  Miss  Marchrose's  identity  without  more  ado. 

Making  his  own  observations,  he  thought  Mark  in 
no  danger  of  falling  a  victim  to  the  beaux  yeux  which, 
if  their  smile  was  chiefly  kept  for  answering  his,  were 
far  more  often  bent  upon  a  typewriter  or  an  account- 
book  than  diverted  towards  him.  Fuller  continued  to 
extol  the  Lady  Superintendent,  and  Sir  Julian  went 
oftener  to  the  College  than  usual,  not  concealing  from 
himself  that  he  found  the  enigma  of  her  personality 
of  interest. 

She  continued  gaily  impersonal  towards  him  until 
one  evening  in  October,  when  he  overtook  her  at  the 
door  of  the  College,  and  on  an  impulse  born  of  un- 
acknowledged, overwhelming  loneliness,  suddenly 
asked  her  if  she  would  care  to  drive  down  to  the  shore 
with  him  and  go  on  to  the  farm  afterwards. 

He  had  long  ago  decided  that  Miss  Marchrose,  al- 
though her  manner  was  often  abrupt,  was  devoid  of 
shyness  as  of  conventional  politeness.  If  his  sugges- 
tion displeased  her,  she  would  undoubtedly  decline  it. 

But  she  exclaimed  with  undisguised  pleasure,  and 
took  her  place  in  the  car  beside  him. 

Julian  was  more  than  usually  dissatisfied  with  life, 
and  made  no  attempt  at  conversation.  It  struck  upon 
him  with  relief  that  Miss  Marchrose  was  equally  silent, 
and  presently  he  glanced  at  her. 

She  was  leaning  back,  her  hair  blown  from  her  tem- 
ples by  the  soft,  salt-laden  breeze,  and  she  looked 
neither  young  nor  pretty  in  the  waning  light,  but  ex- 
ceedingly weary. 


66  TENSION 

"Do  you  like  your  work?"  Julian  enquired  with 
extreme  abruptness,  and  a  sudden,  genuine  desire  for 
information. 

"  At  the  College?     Very  much  indeed." 

Her  tone  was  guarded,  he  felt. 

"  I  mean  the  whole  thing.  What  made  you  take  up 
this  sort  of  thing?  Tell  me  about  it." 

He  almost  heard  her  hesitate  before  she  answered 
with  careful  lightness: 

"  Oh,  I  had  to  do  something,  and  I  should  dislike 
teaching  children  —  and  do  it  very  badly.  I  trained 
as  a  shorthand-typist,  and  am  really  qualified  for  a 
secretary.  I  rather  like  doing  shorthand." 

The  acuteness  of  his  disappointment  actually  sur- 
prised Sir  Julian.  He  realised  that  he  had  made  the 
most  tentative  of  efforts  to  get  into  touch  with  one 
whom  he  vaguely  thought  of  as  a  kindred  spirit,  and 
that  he  had  been  lightly  and  unmistakably  rebuffed. 
He  kept  silence,  making  a  pretence  of  absorption  in  his 
driving. 

Unexpectedly,  Miss  Marchrose  made  a  sort  of  inar- 
ticulate sound  of  interrogation. 

"Sir  Julian?" 

He  turned  his  head. 

"  I'm  sorry,"  she  said  gently.  "  You  really  wanted 
to  know,  didn't  you?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  After  I'd  said  that,  I  —  I  thought  you  were  dis- 
appointed." 

"  You  are  very  quick  to  detect  an  atmosphere." 

"  I'm  sorry,"  she  said  again.  "  Sometimes  I  don't 
realise  when  the  platitudes  that  one  keeps  as  stock 
answers  to  enquiries  are  unnecessary." 


TENSION  67 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Julian. 

"  I  took  up  work  because  I  was  tired  of  living  at 
home.  A  good  many  girls  are  like  that.  However, 
in  our  case  there  was  very  little  money,  and  it  was 
just  as  well  that  I  should  do  something.  I  thought 
I  should  like  secretarial  work;  it  all  sounded  interest- 
ing, and  I  had  always  cared  for  books  and  writing. 
I  didn't  know  in  the  least  what  it  was  going  to  be 
like.  I'd  never  even  been  to  school.  The  six 
months  at  the  training  institute  wasn't  bad;  it  was  all 
quite  new,  and  I  liked  learning  the  things,  and  doing 
well  in  the  shorthand  tests.  At  the  end  of  the  course, 
the  training  institute  undertook  to  find  one  a  post  — 
and  they  got  me  a  job  with  a  firm  in  London.  It  was 
supposed  to  be  a  very  good  one  —  short  hours  and 
decent  pay.  My  mother  —  my  father  was  dead  - 
was  upset  at  the  thought  of  my  staying  on  in  London 
alone,  but  I  wrote  and  said  that  I'd  been  able  to  manage 
perfectly  while  I  was  at  the  institute  —  one  lived  '  in ' 
there,  as  a  matter  of  fact  —  and  that  anyway  I'd 
made  up  my  mind  to  do  it,  and  to  make  a  success  of  it. 
After  all,  I  was  twenty-two  —  and  she  could  give  me 
a  small  allowance,  and  I  thought  that  with  that  and 
my  salary  it  wouldn't  be  very  difficult/' 

"  I  should  imagine  that  by  yourself,  in  London,  at 
twenty-two,  it  might,  on  the  contrary,  be  very  difficult 
indeed,"  said  Julian  significantly. 

"  Not  in  the  way  you  mean,"  Miss  Marchrose  re- 
marked candidly.  "  From  what  one  reads  in  novels, 
girls  who  work  have  to  be  on  their  guard  from  morn- 
ing till  night  against  —  undesirable  attentions.  It  was 
the  one  thing  I  thought  I  should  have  to  beware  of. 
.  .  .  And  all  I  can  say  is,  that  unless  one  asks  for 


68  TENSION 

trouble  of  that  sort,  it  simply  doesn't  happen  to  the 
average  woman." 

Julian  thought  of  his  own  inward  verdict  on  a  beauty 
that  had  probably  been  very  much  too  subtle  and  un- 
vivid  for  universal  recognition,  and  said  nothing. 

"  I  was  five  years  working  in  London,"  Miss  March- 
rose  told  him  simply,  "  and  I  have  never  in  my  life 
been  spoken  to  or  followed  in  the  street.  And  no 
one  has  ever  tried  to  make  love  to  me." 

Julian  noted  with  a  flash  of  appreciation  that  she 
did  not  add,  "against  my  will." 

"  All  the  difficulties  and  all  the  miseries  were  quite 
different.  Things  I'd  never  thought  of,  or  realised 
at  all  .  .  ." 

"  Tell  me  about  them." 

"  I  was  ashamed  of  minding  it  so  much  —  but  the 
difference  between  being  a  girl  living  at  home, 
however  poor,  and  a  girl  going  out  every  day  to  earn 
her  own  living.  There  were  such  a  lot  of  things  I 
didn't  know.  For  instance,  I  had  to  be  told,  at  that 
first  office  I  went  to,  about  calling  the  manager  '  sir  ' 
when  I  spoke  to  him,  and  his  son  was  '  Mr.  Percy  '  to 
the  clerks  and  typists,  always. 

"  And  then  I'd  never  lived  in  London,  and  at  first  I 
used  to  go  to  Slater's  Restaurant  for  lunch,  and  think 
how  economical  I  was,  and  all  the  time  the  other 
typists  were  laughing  at  me  and  thinking  I  was  giving 
myself  airs  because,  of  course,  I  ought  to  have  gone 
to  Lyons  or  an  A.B.C.  or  bought  sandwiches  and  eaten 
them  in  the  office.  And  another  thing  I  hadn't  real- 
ised beforehand  was  the  deadly  monotony  of  it  —  day 
after  day,  sitting  in  the  clatter  of  all  those  machines, 
and  typing  as  hard  as  one  could  go.  Nothing  to 


TENSION  69 

look  forward  to,  except  Saturday  afternoon  and  Sun- 
day, and  then  I  was  dead  tired,  and  I  hated  my  rooms, 
because  they  were  cheap  and  ugly  and  uncomfortable. 
They  weren't  really,  you  know  —  I  had  a  bedroom 
and  a  sitting-room,  that  first  year,  and  a  fire  when- 
ever I  wanted  it  —  most  people  have  a  bed-sitting- 
room  and  go  to  bed  when  they  want  to  keep  warm  — 
but  I'd  come  straight  from  my  home." 

She  paused. 

"  How  long  did  you  stand  it?  " 

"  Eight  months.  And  then  I  knew  I'd  been  a  fool, 
and  I  thought  that  if  my  mother  would  forgive  me 
and  let  me  come  home,  I'd  try  again.  She  had  a 
small  business  and  I  could  have  helped  her  —  she  al- 
ways wanted  me  to.  But  of  course  my  pride  didn't 
like  giving  in,  and  after  I'd  once  made  up  my  mind 
that  I  was  going  back,  it  seemed  easier  to  bear  it  all, 
and  so  I  kept  on  putting  off  writing  the  letter,  think- 
ing I'd  at  least  have  done  a  year  of  it  before  collapsing. 
And  then  my  mother  died,  quite  suddenly,  and  so  I 
never  went  home  at  all,  except  just  to  settle  every- 
thing up  —  it  wasn't  even  our  own  house.  And  there 
was  not  much  more  money  than  before,  so  when  I'd 
sold  the  business,  which  was  luckily  quite  easy,  I  took 
another  post." 

"Was  that  the  only  alternative?"  asked  Julian, 
his  voice  as  matter-of-fact  as  hers  had  been  through- 
out. 

"  There  was  an  aunt,  but  she  had  two  daughters  of 
her  own,  and  they  seemed  to  think  it  extremely  provi- 
dential that  I  could  do  something  for  myself.  They 
are  very  kind,  and  I  generally  spend  my  holidays  with 
them.  They  live  near  London." 


70  TENSION 

"  You  don't  like  London,"  Julian  affirmed,  guided 
by  something  in  her  tone. 

"  No,  not  much.  However,  the  aunt's  husband  got 
me  the  offer  of  a  post  as  shorthand  teacher  at  that  big 
place  in  Southampton  Row,  and  I  went  there,  and  it 
was  a  success.  I  got  a  lot  of  private  tuition  work, 
and  they  raised  my  salary  every  year,  and  I  actually 
saved  money.  That's  why  I'm  here  now." 

Julian  remembered  Mark  Easter :  "  She  comes  here 
for  love  of  the  country,  I  think." 

"  But  I've  never  liked  any  work  better  than  this," 
said  Miss  Marchrose  warmly,  "  and  I  wanted  to  be 
in  the  country.  In  some  ways,  I'm  happier  here  than 
I've  been  anywhere  in  my  life." 

"  I'm  glad.  Only  I'm  afraid  perhaps  it's  lonely,  if 
you  don't  know  anyone  here.  Do  they  make  you 
comfortable  at  the  farm?" 

"  Very,  and  I've  always  wanted  to  live  on  a  farm." 

Julian  stopped  the  car  as  they  came  in  sight  of  the 
shelving  declivity  of  fine,  powdery  sand,  lying  in  un- 
even hillocks,  with  tufts  of  stiff  grasses  amongst  the 
boulders. 

A  broken  line  of  white,  flecking  the  darkness, 
showed  the  receding  tide. 

"  Would  you  like  to  go  down  to  the  edge  of  the 
sea  ?  "  Julian  asked  her. 

"  I'd  like  to  very  much." 

She  did  not  ask  whether  he  meant  to  accompany 
her,  but  after  a  moment  moved  away,  and  Julian  re- 
mained in  the  car,  feeling  the  sting  of  the  salt  on  his 
lips  and  listening  to  the  faint  sound  of  the  water  on 
the  grey  expanse  of  gleaming  sand. 


TENSION  71 

No  one  knew  how  many  nights  in  the  year  he  came 
to  the  edge  of  Culmouth  sands  and  paid  silent,  invol- 
untary tribute  there. 

He  came  nearer  to  making  a  confidence  than  per- 
haps ever  before  when  Miss  Marchrose  came  back 
again,  and  took  her  place  beside  him. 

"  I  always  wanted  to  go  to  sea,"  said  Sir  Julian 
Rossiter  slowly.  "  It  wasn't  practicable  because  I  was 
the  only  son,  and  my  father  wouldn't  hear  of  it,  on 
account  of  the  place.  But  that  was  what  I  wanted." 

"  Yes,  I  see,"  said  Miss  Marchrose. 

And  something  underlying  the  note  of  beauty  which 
he  had  before  admired  in  her  voice  carried  to  Sir 
Julian  the  conviction  that  she  did  see. 

He  drove  her  to  the  gate  of  the  farm,  and  they 
talked  a  little,  with  comfortable  inconsequence,  on  the 
way. 

When  she  got  out  of  the  car,  Miss  Marchrose 
thanked  him  cordially,  and  her  movements,  as  she 
crossed  the  yard  and  went  up  the  stone  steps  to  the 
house  door,  were  no  longer  eloquent  of  weariness. 

Julian  drove  back  to  Culmhayes  through  the  dark 
lanes. 

It  was  characteristic  of  him  that  he  should  observe, 
as  he  took  his  place  opposite  to  his  wife  at  the  end  of 
the  dinner-table  that  evening : 

"  I  took  Miss  Marchrose  back  in  the  car  this  even- 
ing. She  came  out  of  the  College  just  as  I  was  going 
past." 

He  was  quite  aware,  without  looking  at  her,  of  the 
exact  angle  to  which  Edna's  eyebrows  raised  them- 
selves. 


72  TENSION 

"  I  thought  she  stayed  at  the  College  working  till 
all  hours,  and  then  had  to  be  escorted  home  by  un- 
fortunate Mark?" 

"  Apparently  the  procedure  is  not  invariable." 

Edna  waited  until  the  servants  were  out  of  the  room, 
and  then  spoke  again. 

"Julian  —  about  that  girl  —  I  couldn't  leave  it  at 
that,  you  know.  God  knows  how  much  I  dislike  any 
form  of  interference,  but  then  it's  for  Mark  Easter 
—  I  can  never  feel  that  Mark  hasn't  a  very  real  claim 
on  me." 

"  In  the  name  of  fortune,  Edna,  what  are  you  talk- 
ing about? " 

"  You  mean,"  said  Edna,  fixing  him  with  a  coldly 
thoughtful  eye,  and  perfectly  aware  that  he  meant 
nothing  of  the  sort.  "  You  mean  that,  with  my  ideals, 
all  humanity  has  a  claim  on  me.  I  do  hold  that  it  is 
so,  and,  as  you  know,  I  am  always  ready  to  give  what 
I  can,  though  it  may  not  be  silver  or  gold.  I  was 
rather  struck  by  a  curious  little  incident  this  morning, 
Julian,  which  illustrates  my  meaning.  I  think  I  must 
tell  you." 

Edna  placed  her  white  arms  upon  the  table  and 
leant  a  little  forward,  her  handsome  face  full  of  the 
absorption  that  is  the  expression  common  to  most 
faces,  handsome  or  otherwise,  of  which  the  owner 
is  talking  freely  about  him  or  herself. 

"  For  the  last  week  or  two  I  have  been  having  a 
poor  woman  out  from  Culmotith  in  here  to  do  some 
sewing,  because  Miss  Brown  is  ill.  I  went  in  to  talk 
to  her  for  a  minute  or  two,  the  first  day  she  came.  I 
hate  them  to  feel  as  though  they  weren't  of  the  same 
flesh  and  blood  as  oneself  —  and  I  was  struck  by 


TENSION  73 

the  sort  of  hard  dreariness  in  her  face,  as  though  she 
had  never  known  the  meaning  of  love  or  gladness. 
I  asked  no  questions,  of  course,  but  just  laid  my  hand 
on  her  shoulder  and  said  quietly,  '  I  don't  know  if 
you've  ever  read  Browning  —  perhaps  not  —  but  there 
is  a  line  of  his  that  I  want  you  to  think  about  while 
you're  mending  those  curtains :  "  God's  in  His 
Heaven  —  all's  right  with  the  world !  "  And  then 
I  left  her. 

"  Well,  she  didn't  make  very  much  response,  poor 
thing,  but  every  time  I  saw  her  when  she  came  here 
I've  just,  in  my  own  thoughts,  thrown  a  little  Cloak 
of  Love  round  her.  It  seemed  to  me  all  that  I  could 
do.  And  this  morning  —  after  all  these  weeks,  when 
one  just  went  quietly  on  without  any  visible  sign  of 
success  —  this  morning,  Julian,  when  I  came  into  the 
sewing-room  —  she  looked  up  and  smiled." 

Julian  looked  as  though  this  consummation  struck 
him  as  being  in  the  nature  of  an  anti-climax. 

"  Day  after  day,  I'd  thrown  my  little  Cloak  of  Love 
round  her  —  and  she'd  come  to  feel  the  warmth  of  it 
at  last.  It  has  made  me  very  happy,  Julian.  You  will 
smile  at  me,  very  likely,  but  the  winning  of  that  poor 
little  seamstress  to  a  brighter,  truer  outlook  seems  to 
me  —  well,  just  extraordinarily  worth  while." 

There  was  silence,  while  Lady  Rossiter's  softened 
expression  denoted  that  she  was  devoting  her  reflec- 
tions to  the  recent  conquest.  But  presently  she  went 
back  to  her  original  ground  of  departure. 

"  About  Mark,  though  —  I  care  for  him  too  much 
to  see  him  take  any  risks.  And  I  find  —  would  to 
God  I  hadn't !  —  that  my  original  instinct  was  correct." 

Lady  Rossiter  waited,  but  her  husband  showed  no 


74  TENSION 

disposition  to  ask  for  elucidation,  and  she  was  obliged 
to  go  on  unquestioned. 

"  It  was  this  very  girl  —  Pauline  Marchrose  —  who 
threw  over  Clarence  Isbister  because  of  his  accident." 

For  once,  Sir  Julian  displayed  astonishment  in  the 
right  place. 

"  Good  Lord !  "  he  said,  in  a  startled  voice.  "  I'd 
forgotten  all  about  that  business." 

There  was  a  long  pause.  Then  Julian  remarked 
slowly : 

"  Yes  —  I  should  rather  like  to  hear  the  rights  of 
that  story.  Perhaps,  after  all,  Clarence  Isbister 
wasn't  quite  such  an  ass  as  I  always  thought  him." 


VI 

"  How's  the  '  Tale  of  Two  Sexes/  or  whatever  it's 
called,  getting  on  ?  "  flippantly  enquired  Sir  Julian  of 
his  agent. 

"  Coming  out  any  day  now,"  said  Mark,  with  a  grin, 
"  and  the  gifted  authoress  is  coming  to  stay  with  us 
next  month.  Will  you  and  Lady  Rossiter  come  and 
dine  one  night?  I'm  afraid  you'll  get  a  very  poor  din- 
ner, but  you  know  what  to  expect  of  Sarah.  I  should 
like  to  make  it  rather  more  amusing  for  Iris,  if  you 
can  face  it." 

"Delighted,"  said  Sir  Julian  untruthfully. 

The  proposed  entertainment  was  one  which  he  had 
sampled  before,  and  for  which  he  had  conceived  a  pro- 
found distaste. 

An  element  of  novelty  was  introduced,  however,  at 
the  eleventh  hour,  when  the  evening  of  the  dinner- 
party arrived.  Mark  greeted  Sir  Julian  and  Lady 
Rossiter  on  the  threshold. 

"  A  creature  called  Douglas  Garrett  has  turned  up, 
by  what  he  and  Iris  call  a  coincidence.  Of  course,  I 
had  to  ask  the  chap  to  dinner,  and  he's  gone  to  the 
'  King's  Head '  to  get  his  things." 

"  The  more  the  merrier,"  said  Julian  rather 
gloomily. 

"  I've  got  Miss  Marchrose  to  come,  so  we  shall  be 
even  numbers,"  said  Mark  cheerfully. 

75 


76  TENSION 

"  Good." 

"  You  should  have  let  me  know,"  murmured  Edna 
gently.  "  She  may  perhaps  want  keeping  in  counte- 
nance a  little,  as  regards  evening  dress.  I  could  so 
easily  have  put  on  a  high  gown." 

Regrets  on  the  score  of  Edna's  modest  and  ex- 
tremely becoming  decolletage,  half  shrouded  in  tulle, 
proved  unnecessary. 

Miss  Iris  Easter  was  in  full  dinner-dress,  of  a  rose 
colour  that  enhanced  her  extreme  fairness  and 
prettiness. 

Small  as  was  Julian's  admiration  for  her  person- 
ality, he  was  always  struck  afresh  at  the  sight  of  her, 
at  the  size  of  her  enormous  eyes  —  as  nearly  violet 
as  any  eyes  outside  the  pages  of  a  novel  —  her  crinkled, 
fluffy  hair,  her  general  delicacy  of  form  and  feature. 
Even  the  misguided  instinct  which  had  led  her  to 
outline  a  charming  upper  lip  with  sealing-wax  red 
could  not  detract  from  her  porcelain  prettiness. 

She  was  the  possessor  of  a  high,  youthful,  lisping 
voice  that  always  reminded  Julian  of  the  adjective 
"  fluted,"  and  a  pronunciation  that  is  best  indicated 
by  the  fact  that  she  always  pronounced  her  own  name 
as  though  it  were  spelt  "  heiress." 

At  the  sight  of  Lady  Rossiter  she  cried : 

"  Eoh !  heow  blessed  to  see  you  again,  dear  Lady 
Rahsittur!"  and  almost  similarly  greeted  Sir  Julian, 
with  her  head  very  much  on  one  side. 

Lady  Rossiter  said  "  My  dear !  "  in  a  tone  which 
simultaneously  conveyed  protest  at  Miss  Easter's  ex- 
cessive effusion  and  the  unspoken  admission  that  any 
lesser  enthusiasm  would  never  have  met  the  case,  and 
Julian  laughed  a  little,  simply  because  Iris  was  so 


TENSION  77 

pretty  and  her  monstrous  affectation  had  not  yet  had 
time  to  produce  its  usual  effect  upon  his  temper. 

"Where's  your  young  man?"  Mark  asked  her, 
with  a  laugh.  "  He  ought  to  be  back  by  this  time." 

"Douglas?"  said  Iris,  in  a  careless  and  interroga- 
tory way,  as  though  the  enquiry  might  refer  to  any 
number  of  attendant  swains.  "  Oh,  he'll  be  here 
directly.  I  can  hear  the  dear  kiddies,  Mark." 

So  could  everyone  else,  as  Ruthie  and  Ambrose 
whined,  argued,  and  stampeded  their  way  downstairs. 

The  usual  violent  onslaught  on  the  door-handle  en- 
sued, but  after  it  had  been  wrenched  from  Ambrose 
by  Ruthie's  superior  height  and  strength  of  muscle, 
they  effected  a  decorous  entry  into  the  drawing-room 
hand-in-hand. 

"  Oh,  you  sweet  pets!  "  was  the  misguided  exclama- 
tion of  their  Auntie  Iris.  Julian  wondered  if  it  were 
provoked  by  the  unwonted  starchy  whiteness  of 
Ruthie's  skirts,  which  had  a  look  of  having  been  out- 
grown by  her  some  months  previously,  or  by  the  long, 
pale  sausage  of  hair  that  had  been  forced  into  an  un- 
willing curl  on  the  extreme  top  of  her  brother's  head. 

"  Say  how  do  you  do,"  Mark  admonished  them, 
with  a  rather  puzzled  look  as  he  took  in  the  cleanly 
aspect  for  once  presented  by  his  progeny. 

"  How  fast  Ruthie  is  growing !  "  said  Lady  Rossiter, 
in  a  slightly  disparaging  tone.  Mark  gazed  regret- 
fully at  the  legs  of  his  daughter  and  muttered  under 
his  moustache : 

"  They  want  someone  to  see  to  their  clothes. 
Sarah  does  her  best,  but  servants  can't  be  expected 

Lady  Rossiter  turned  upon  him  a  deepened  gaze 
expressive  of  compassion,  comprehension,  and  much 


78  TENSION 

else  that  was  destined  to  remain  unappreciated,  as 
further  sounds  of  arrival  took  Mark  to  the  door. 

"  That  was  a  cab,  surely,"  said  Lady  Rossiter.  "  I 
suppose  it's  Miss  Marchrose.  That  seems  rather  an 
expensive  item  for  her." 

"How  dear  of  you,  Lady  Rossiter!  I  do  believe 
you  always  think  of  every  little  thing." 

On  this  extravagant  assertion  of  Miss  Easter's  her 
brother  returned  to  the  drawing-room  with  his  two 
remaining  guests. 

Mr.  Douglas  Garrett  was  a  tall,  saturnine  youth, 
whose  conversation  principally  consisted  in  empha- 
sising the  gulf  separating  the  rest  of  humanity  from 
himself  and  some  persons  unspecified,  but  amalga- 
mated under  the  monosyllable  "  we." 

"  We  poor  motor-cyclists  can't  hope  to  be  as  punc- 
tual as  the  rest  of  the  world,"  he  observed  to  Lady 
Rossiter,  to  whom  he  was  presented  by  Iris  as  "  My 
great  friend,  Mr.  Garrett,  dear  Lady  Rossiter,  but 
everyone  calls  him  Douglas." 

"  You  will  hardly  need  to  be  told  that  I  have  Scotch 
blood  in  me,  after  that,"  gravely  said  Mr.  Garrett. 
"  We  Kelts  are  faithful  to  the  traditional  old  names 
of  the  Clan." 

"  Oh,"  said  Iris,  her  head  more  on  one  side  than 
ever.  "  Isn't  there  some  poem  about,  '  Douglas, 
Douglas,  tender  and  true'?" 

Mr.  Garrett  inclined  his  head  towards  her  in 
acknowledgment  and  murmured  something  about 
"  we  lovers  of  the  dear  old  bard "  which  nobody 
seemed  quite  to  catch. 

The  room,  not  over  large,  now  appeared  to  be 
rather  uncomfortably  crowded,  and  pervaded,  more- 


TENSION  79 

over,  by  a  growing  consciousness  that  something  must 
be  happening  to  the  dinner. 

Lady  Rossiter  said  to  Mark,  "  I  always  love  a  little 
house,  especially  in  winter.  They  are  so  much 
warmer,"  at  the  same  time  holding  a  newspaper  be- 
tween herself  and  the  fire,  the  size  of  which  was  out 
of  all  proportion  to  the  room  and  to  the  number  of 
its  occupants. 

"  I  know  you  love  kiddies,"  Auntie  Iris  remarked 
in  a  general  sort  of  way  to  Miss  Marchrose,  Julian, 
and  Mr.  Garrett.  "  These  little  people  are  too  quaint 
for  words;  aren't  you,  children?  " 

The  rather  embarrassing  enquiry  appeared  to  pre- 
sent no  difficulty  to  Ruthie,  who  made  it  the  ground 
of  a  sudden  onslaught  upon  Mr.  Garrett. 

"Are  you  married?"  she  enquired  with  loudness 
and  assurance  of  the  astonished  young  man. 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Mr.  Garrett,  with  emphasis. 
Ruthie  immediately  took  an  uninvited  seat  upon  his 
knee. 

"Come  here,  Ambrose  dear,"  said  Auntie  Iris  has- 
tily, "  and  talk  to  us." 

"  Eh  ?  "  said  Ambrose,  looking  enquiringly  at  her 
through  his  spectacles. 

It  needed  no  intuition  to  recognise  either  the  intona- 
tion or  the  vocabulary  of  Sarah  in  the  pleasing  mono- 
syllable shot  forth  by  Master  Easter. 

"What  have  you  been  doing  to-day?"  rather 
rashly  pursued  Auntie  Iris. 

"Eh?" 

"  Don't  say  '  eh  '  like  that,  darling.  I  can't  imagine 
what's  come  over  the  child." 

"  That's  Peekaboo's  new  bad  habit,"  his  sister  glee- 


8o  TENSION 

fully    proclaimed.     "  He    says    '  eh '    to    everything 


now." 


Ambrose  looked  venomously  at  her,  but  said  noth- 
ing. 

"  Do  you  know  what  we  Scotch  lads  and  lassies  used 
to  be  taught  in  our  nursery  days  ?  "  Mr.  Garrett  en- 
quired. 

"Eh?" 

"We  used  to  be  taught,"  Mr.  Garrett  said,  with 
great  distinctness  and  an  air  of  originality,  "  Birds  in 
their  little  nests  agree." 

"  That's  what  Sarah  says." 

Mr.  Garrett  looked  rather  depressed  at  this  unen- 
thusiastic  reception  of  his  scholastic  axiom. 

There  ensued  a  pause,  during  which  Julian  could 
hear  his  host  and  Lady  Rossiter  pursuing  a  conversa- 
tion in  which  the  last  thing  had  long  been  said. 

He  turned  to  Miss  Marchrose,  and  ill-adapted  as 
were  her  twenty-eight  years,  her  tired  eyes,  and  her 
rather  worn  mauve  foulard  to  bear  comparison  with 
the  radiant  Iris,  Julian  found  it  pleasant  to  look  at 
her  and  to  listen  to  her  charming  voice. 

The  satisfaction,  however,  was  not  afforded  to  him 
for  long.  "  Auntie  Iris !  Shall  I  say  my  piece  ?  " 
Ruthie  asked  in  her  accustomedly  penetrating  accents. 

Everybody  looked   doubtful. 

"  Hark ! "  exclaimed  Julian,  quite  involuntarily. 
"Isn't  that ?" 

Sarah,  looking .  heated,  announced  dinner. 

"  Oh,  what  a  pity !  "  said  Ruthie.  "  But  I  daresay 
me  and  Ambrose  will  be  still  here  when  you  come  out 
from  dinner.  So  I  can  say  it  then." 

With  this  altruistic  reassurance  still  ringing  in  the 


TENSION  81 

air,  to  an  accompaniment  of  stubbornly  reiterated 
"  ehs  "  from  Ambrose,  the  dining-room  was  reached. 

"  I  see  that  your  novel  is  being  very  well  advertised," 
Sir  Julian  began  conversation  with  his  hostess. 
"  We  have  it  on  order,  but  it  has  not  yet  arrived.  I 
hope  that  means  that  the  sales  are  going  well." 

"  Don't  hope  that,"  said  Mr.  Garrett  in  a  deep  voice 
across  the  table. 

"  Why  not?  "  said  Mark,  after  giving  Sir  Julian  due 
time  for  the  enquiry  which  nothing  would  have  in- 
duced him  to  make. 

" '  Why,  Ben ! '  is  not  to  be  lightly  put  before  the 
multitude.  Iris  has  shown  extraordinary  courage  in 
attacking  a  problem  which  could  only  present  itself  to 
thinking  minds.  The  very  title  tells  one  that  —  a 
Story  of  the  Sexes.  By  the  by,  Iris,  we  realists  of 
the  new  school  are  inclined  to  wish  that  you  had 
made  that  the  name  of  the  book  outright." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Mark,  and  added  courageously, 
"  Besides,  I  like  '  Why,  Ben ! '  It's  so  original." 

"  Is  your  book  a  novel  ?  "  Miss  Marchrose  enquired 
of  Iris. 

Mr.  Garrett  took  the  reply  upon  himself.  "  An  ex- 
traordinarily powerful  study  of  man's  primitive  needs," 
he  explained. 

"  Iris  —  Miss  Easter  —  has  gone  straight  down  to 
the  very  bed-rock  of  the  soil.  We  present-day  pagans 
are  gradually  winning  our  way  back  to  Mother 
Nature,  don't  you  think  ?  " 

Julian  involuntarily  glanced  at  his  wife  at  this  per- 
verted example  of  her  own  theories. 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Edna  very  sweetly,  "  Mother 
Nature  is  herself  leading  us  home.  One  has  only  to 


82  TENSION 

look  round  one,  after  all.  Personally,  I  have  a  tiny, 
tiny  little  nature-class  which  means  a  great  deal  to 
me.  And  I  make  everyone  join  who  has  one  little 
spark  of  the  Divine  Fire,  whoever  it  may  be.  But  then 
I'm  afraid  I'm  a  socialist  —  a  rank,  rank  democrat." 

The  announcement  provided  ample  opportunity  for 
the  more  strenuous  form  of  egotism  known  as  Gen- 
eral Conversation. 

"Oh,  Lady  Rossiter!"  piped  Iris;  "but  I  always 
say  that  if  the  socialists  divided  everything  up  and 
made  everyone  equal  to-day,  things  would  all  go  back 
to  the  old  way  to-morrow !  " 

"  I  must  admit  that  we  thinkers  are  all  in  favour 
of  democracy  as  a  rule,"  said  Mr.  Douglas  Garrett, 
obviously  resentful  at  having  to  agree  with  anyone 
present ;  "  but  take  the  Keltic  element  alone  —  per- 
haps I  shall  make  my  point  best  by  putting  my  own 
case  to  you.  .  .  ." 

His  sombre  gaze  was  fixed  upon  Miss  Marchrose, 
who  brazenly  ignored  the  whole  of  the  last  half  of  his 
sentence,  and  said  pleasantly  that  she  knew  nothing 
about  politics  and  had  always  been  brought  up  to  be- 
lieve the  whole  subject  quite  unfit  for  feminine  ears. 

"  This  from  an  emancipated  lady  who  has  taken 
up  a  business  career!"  said  Edna,  with  a  hint  of 
mockery.  "  I  quite  imagined  you  an  advocate  of 
woman's  rights,  Miss  Marchrose." 

"  The  cry  of  Woman's  Rights,  my  dear  Edna,  was 
a  catchword  which  has  passed  out  of  the  language 
while  Miss  Marchrose  was  still  in  the  nursery,"  said 
Sir  Julian  suavely ;  "  consequently  it  probably  conveys 
nothing  to  her  generation,  whatever  it  may  do  to  ours." 

Julian  was  quite  conscious  of  the  anything  but  doubt- 


TENSION  83 

ful  taste  of  this  chivalrous  rebuke,  and  felt  rather 
grateful  to  Iris  for  breaking  in  with  the  artless  and 
time-honoured  statement  that  she  always  had  all  the 
rights  she  wanted,  and  men  always  seemed  ready  to 
give  up  their  seats  in  omnibuses  or  railway  carriages 
so  as  to  offer  them  to  her.  She  also  added  that  she 
could  not  think  why  this  was. 

Sir  Julian  gave  her  the  required  explanation  of  the 
phenomenon,  while  Mark  turned  with  a  certain  aspect 
of  relief  to  his  neighbour,  Miss  Marchrose,  and  Mr. 
Douglas  Garrett  and  Lady  Rossiter  looked  disapprov- 
ingly at  one  another  and  both  began  to  talk  at  once 
with  immense  firmness  and  determination. 

Julian  never  knew  by  what  means  his  wife  accom- 
plished her  end,  but  at  a  later  stage  of  dinner,  when 
Mark  and  Miss  Marchrose  had  been  laughing  at  one 
another's  jokes  for  some  time,  Edna's  voice  suddenly 
fell  audible  on  the  other  side  of  the  table  addressing 
herself  to  Mr.  Garrett:  ".  .  .  but  Clarence  Isbister 
is  the  only  son,  and  a  particularly  nice  boy." 

Julian  would  not  look  at  Miss  Marchrose,  but  Edna's 
voice  had  been  so  distinct  that  both  Mark  and  she 
stopped  speaking.  It  was  Iris,  however,  with  the 
praiseworthy  instinct  of  her  kind  for  following  up  any 
clue,  however  remote,  that  might  eventually  lead  to  an 
only  son,  who  asked : 

"  Are  those  the  Shropshire  Isbisters  ?  " 

"  A  branch  of  the  same  family.  But  I  was  telling 
Mr.—  er " 

Edna  made  a  slight  and  insultingly-meant  pretence  at 
having  forgotten  Mr.  Garrett's  name.  Nobody  sup- 
plied it,  unless  an  exception  be  made  of  Iris,  who  mur- 
mured that  everyone  called  him  Douglas. 


84  TENSION 

" About  some  dear  cousins  of  mine,  Isbisters 

—  people  who  live  in  Queen's  Gate  Gardens  most  of  the 
year." 

Lady  Rossiter  paused,  looking  straight  at  Miss 
Marchrose,  who  said  nothing  at  all,  and  looked  calmly 
back  at  her. 

There  was  complete  silence  for  an  instant.  Before 
it  had  assumed  significance,  Mark  Easter  broke  it 
with  cheerful  trivialities. 

Julian  wondered  whether  Miss  Marchrose  was  con- 
scious of  challenge. 

Her  face  was  inscrutable,  but  he  felt  by  no  means 
sure  that  she  had  not  very  accurately  interpreted 
Edna's  unspoken  warning  that  Mark  Easter,  if  nec- 
essary, should  yet  be  told  how  Clarence  Isbister  had 
fared  at  the  hands  of  his  betrothed. 

When  the  not-too-successful  dinner  had  come  to  an 
end,  and  Mark  had  returned  to  the  drawing-room  with 
the  reluctant  Julian  and  a  now  eloquent  Garrett,  whose 
discourse  on  the  convivial  proclivities  of  "  we-fellows- 
about-town  "  had  met  with  the  smallest  possible  amount 
of  attention  from  either  of  his  seniors,  success  seemed 
within  more  measurable  distance  of  the  evening's  en- 
tertainment. 

Julian  was  not,  indeed,  pleased  to  find  the  son  and 
daughter  of  the  house  sprawlingly  occupying  the 
hearthrug,  to  the  exclusion  of  everyone  else  from  sight 
or  heat  of  the  fire,  but  he  perceived  that  Ruthie  and 
Ambrose,  objectionable  in  themselves,  had  at  least 
served  to  obviate  possible  mutual  friction  between  the 
remaining  occupants  of  the  room. 

Lady  Rossiter  was  maintaining  with  persevering 
sweetness  a  kindly  catechism  as  to  the  tastes  and 


TENSION  85 

habits  of  Master  Ambrose  Easter,  who  responded  with 
his  newly-acquired  monosyllable,  reiterated  upon  a 
loud,  enquiring,  unintelligent  note.  Iris  was  pictur- 
esquely turning  over  a  heap  of  music  just  where  the 
lamplight  fell  on  her  bright,  soft  hair,  and  Miss  March- 
rose,  leaning  back  in  an  armchair,  hearkened  with  an 
unsympathetic  expression  to  Ruthie's  noisy  and  highly- 
emphasised  rendering  of  an  objectionable  poem  bla- 
tantly entitled  "  I  am  Grandpa's  Little  Sweetheart." 

"  Children,  I  thought  you  were  in  bed  long  ago," 
said  Mark,  eyeing  them  in  a  rather  dejected  fashion. 

"  Sarah  can't  put  us  to  bed  yet,  she's  got  to  wash 
Up,"  said  Ambrose,  in  a  practical  way. 

"  Listen,  Daddy!  "  cried  Ruthie: 

"  So  I'm  the  little  girlie  who  always  has  to  go 
And  stand  each  happy  Christmas  beneath  the  mistletoe, 
And  Grandpa  comes  up  softly " 

"Ruthie!     Stop  that." 

"  But  Daddy,  it's  my  piece !  " 

Mark  sank  into  a  chair  with  a  sort  of  groan. 

:<  The  Rector's  daughter  gives  them  lessons,  and  she 
will  teach  them  these  things,"  he  confided  to  Miss 
Marchrose,  who  responded  almost  more  sympathet- 
ically than  was  courteous. 

"  We've  just  come  to  the  end." 

Accordingly,  when  Ruthie's  final  assertion  of  her 
hypothetical  grandparent's  infatuation  had  died  away, 
and  Lady  Rossiter  had  said  coldly,  "  Very  nice,  Ruthie 
dear,"  and  Mr.  Garrett  had  muttered  something  about 
we  votaries  of  the  Muse  to  Iris,  and  everybody  else 
had  maintained  an  unenthusiastic  silence,  Mark  Easter 


86  TENSION 

bribed,  commanded,  and  cajoled  his  children  into  im- 
mediate disappearance  from  the  drawing-room. 

"  Auntie  Iris  will  come  and  tuck  you  up,  darlings," 
exclaimed  Miss  Easter  winningly,  waiting  until  they 
might  safely  be  assumed  to  be  well  out  of  hearing,  and 
merely  with  the  evident  intention  of  captivating  Mr. 
Douglas  Garrett. 

He  immediately  joined  her  as  she  stood,  still  flut- 
tering music-leaves. 

"  Won't  you  sing  ?  "  he  enquired  tenderly. 

But  Iris  was  in  the  case  of  the  majority  of  those  of 
her  sex  known  to  sing.  She  had  studied  for  some 
time,  reported  ecstatic  opinions  of  her  voice,  its  power 
and  its  quality,  possessed  a  large  quantity  of  music, 
and  had  never  been  heard  to  utter  a  note. 

"  The  Signora  won't  hear  of  my  trying  my  voice 
yet,"  said  Iris,  in  the  accustomed  formula  of  these 
carefully  sheltered  nightingales.  "  She  thinks  it  may 
take  eight  or  ten  years  to  develop  it,  and  then  I  might 
even  think  of  Grand  Opera.  It  seems  too  quaint, 
doesn't  it?" 

This  last  tribute  to  modesty  appearing  to  require  no 
reply,  Mr.  Garrett  turned  to  Miss  Marchrose. 

"  I  fancy  from  your  speaking  voice  that  you  can 
sing,"  he  said  kindly.  "  We  musicians  are  not  over- 
critical,  as  I'm  sure  Iris  will  tell  you,  and  I'm  sure  it 
would  be  delightful  to  hear  you." 

Miss  Marchrose  looked  at  her  host. 

"  Do,"  he  said. 

He  and  Julian  listened  to  her,  while  Iris  and  Mr. 
Garrett  retired  to  a  distant  sofa  and  conversed  in  un- 
dertones, and  Lady  Rossiter  put  on  one  of  her  kindest 
expressions. 


TENSION  87 

Miss  Marchrose  had  chosen  the  only  old-fashioned 
volume  from  amongst  Iris's  extremely  modern  selec- 
tion, and  she  sang  "  Annie  Laurie "  and  "  Jock  o' 
Hazeldean."  Her  voice  had  the  indescribable  quality 
of  pathos  that  is  sometimes  heard  in  Irish  voices, 
and  was  fairly  well  trained,  though  it  was  quite  evi- 
dent that  no  cherishing  Signora  had  ever  had  the 
charge  of  it.  It  was  not  a  beautiful  voice,  but  every 
note  within  its  small  compass  was  exceedingly  sweet. 

"  Thanks  —  thanks  so  much,"  said  Mr.  Garrett 
from  his  sofa.  "  We  Kelts  have  a  very  soft  corner 
for  the  Songs  of  Hame.  Won't  you  try  'Loch 
Lomond '  ?  " 

But  Miss  Marchrose  said  no,  and  that  she  was  afraid 
that  she  had  forgotten  that  part  of  her  audience  was 
Scotch,  or  she  would  never  have  attempted  Scotch 
songs,  thus  making  an  end  of  the  pretty  illusion  that 
her  selection  had  been  out  of  compliment  to  Mr.  Gar- 
rett and  his  nationality. 

"  Isn't  your  voice  sufficiently  trained  to  be  of  a 
little  use  to  you  ?  "  Lady  Rossiter  asked  the  singer. 
"  Private  engagements  are  really  not  so  very  dif- 
ficult to  get,  and  I'm  sure  you'd  like  adding  to  the 
music  of  the  world  better  than  that  eternal  short- 
hand." 

"  I  am  better  qualified  to  add  to  the  music  of  the 
world  on  a  typewriter  than  on  a  piano,"  said  Miss 
Marchrose. 

"  Go  on  singing,"  Julian  told  her. 

This  time  she  sang  popular  musical  comedy  songs, 
rather  amusingly,  and  with  the  slightest  of  accom- 
paniments. 

Mark  roared  with  laughter,  Lady  Rossiter  substi- 


88  TENSION 

tuted  a  tolerant  look  for  the  one  of  kindness,  and  Iris 
and  Mr.  Garrett  exchanged  a  slight  shudder. 

"  Well  done !  "  said  Sir  Julian,  when  she  stopped. 
"  But  sing  '  Annie  Laurie '  once  more." 

He  listened  with  peculiar  satisfaction  while  she  did 
as  he  had  asked  her. 

The  dinner-party  was  broken  up  by  Lady  Rossiter, 
who  said  to  Miss  Marchrose  as  she  bade  her  good 
night : 

"  We  mustn't  keep  your  cab  waiting ;  that  '  King's 
Head '  fly  charges  abominably  as  it  is.  Besides,  I 
don't  forget  that  you  have  to  be  at  work  at  nine  to- 
morrow morning.  Good  night." 

She  drew  on  her  fur  coat,  preparatory  to  walking 
with  Julian  the  few  hundred  yards  to  their  own  gates. 

As  they  turned  away,  Mark  Easter  handed  Miss 
Marchrose  into  her  cab,  and  they  heard  him  say, 
"  Good  night,  Annie  Laurie." 


VII 

AFTER  that  evening,  Mark  often  called  Miss  March- 
rose  "  Annie  Laurie." 

Julian  frequently  wondered  what  the  result  might 
be  if  he  ever  did  so  in  the  presence  of  Lady  Rossiter. 

Lady  Rossiter,  however,  was  much  engaged  with  the 
valedictory  meetings  at  which  the  members  of  the 
nature-class  bade  nature  farewell  until  the  return  of 
warmer  weather,  and  had  no  immediate  leisure  to  be- 
stow upon  the  growing  friendship  between  Mark  and 
Miss  Marchrose. 

Julian  made  his  own  observations,  and  was  more 
than  ever  convinced  that  Mark  Easter  was  in  no  dan- 
ger from  a  repetition  of  the  fate  which  had  overtaken 
Captain  Clarence  Isbister.  That  episode,  moreover, 
remained  to  him  utterly  incomprehensible.  He  sur- 
mised that  the  clue  to  it  might  be  found  in  that  contra- 
diction between  the  half -mocking,  half -defiant  direct- 
ness of  Miss  Marchrose's  eyes  and  the  curiously  un- 
conscious pathos  of  her  mouth. 

At  the  villa,  Iris  Easter  for  the  time  being  remained 
installed,  reaping  an  astonishing  harvest  of  press-cut- 
tings, variously  indicating  surprise,  disgust,  and  admi- 
ration at  the  startling  character  of  "  Why,  Ben!  " 

Mr.  Douglas  Garrett  remained  in  Culmouth  and  in- 
terpreted the  press-cuttings  to  her  in  his  character  of 
"  one  of  we  poor  literary  hacks." 

In  the  first  week  of  December  there  took  place  at 

89 


90  TENSION 

the  College  one  of  the  General  Committee  meetings  so 
abhorred  of  Sir  Julian. 

"  There  are  a  great,  great  many  things,"  said  Edna 
thoughtfully,  "  that  I  want  to  speak  about  at  the  meet- 
ing. I  have  been  so  little  to  the  College  lately,  but  it  is 
not  often  out  of  my  thoughts/' 

"  Bellew  is  taking  the  chair/'  Sir  Julian  observed, 
less  irrelevantly  than  might  have  been  supposed. 

He  was  aware,  and  knew  that  Edna  was  aware,  that 
no  check  or  limit  would  be  placed  by  Alderman  Bellew 
on  the  College  problems  that  Lady  Rossiter  might 
choose  to  regard  as  coming  within  the  scope  of  her  in- 
fluence. 

He  wondered  for  the  hundredth  time  whether  it 
would  not  have  been  possible  to  decline  the  compli- 
mentary offer  of  a  position  on  the  general  committee 
of  management  which  had  been  made  to  Lady  Rossiter 
as  wife  of  the  leading  director,  and  which  he  knew  that 
she  cherished  the  more  from  being  the  only  representa- 
tive of  her  sex  at  the  meetings. 

"  By  the  by/'  he  said  suddenly,  "  the  position  of 
Lady  Superintendent  carries,  ipso  facto,  a  place  on  the 
General  Committee.  You  will  have  another  lady  to 
keep  you  in  countenance,  Edna/' 

"  What,  poor  Miss  Marchrose?  " 

"  Miss  Marchrose,"  Julian  assented,  tacitly  refusing 
the  epithet. 

Lady  Rossiter  was  silent  for  a  moment  and  then  said 
quietly,  "  I'm  so  glad  that  I  can  spare  the  time  to  come 
in  to-day.  She  could  never  have  faced  all  those  men 
by  herself,  poor  thing,  and  they  would  probably  have 
disliked  it  as  much  as  she  would,  or  more.  An  un- 
married woman  is  always  at  a  disadvantage/' 


TENSION  91 

Julian  left  undisputed  this  cardinal  article  of  faith 
characteristic  of  the  wedded  Englishwoman. 

In  the  hall  of  the  College  they  found  Cooper,  who 
said  in  a  congratulatory  way,  "  Sir  Julian  and  Lady 
Rossiter !  You've  come  for  the  General  Meeting.  Let 
me  take  your  coat,  Lady  Rossiter,  and  put  it  here  — 
just  lay  it  across  the  chair-back.  We're  going  to  have 
a  good  meeting,  I  think  —  no  absentees.  Will  you 
wait  in  Mr.  Fuller's  rooms,  Sir  Julian?  I'll  open  the 
door." 

Mr.  Fairfax  Fuller  greeted  his  chief  with  an  air  of 
relief  that  turned  into  a  look  of  smouldering  resent- 
ment as  Lady  Rossiter  shook  hands  with  him,  which 
she  always  did,  as  she  said,  on  principle,  either  disre- 
garding or  not  observing  the  Superintendent's  strong 
tendency  to  entrench  himself  behind  a  writing-table 
and  thrust  both  hands  into  his  pockets. 

She  did  not,  however,  shake  hands  with  Miss  March- 
rose,  but  nodded  to  her  in  a  very  kindly  way  and  said 
"  Good  morning  "  in  a  pleasant  undertone. 

Old  Alderman  Bellew  was  talking  in  the  window  to 
Mark  Easter. 

"How  are  things  going,  Mr.  Fuller?"  Edna  en- 
quired with  grave  interest. 

"  Going  right  enough,"  muttered  Fuller,  looking  at 
his  watch. 

"  Oh,  I'm  glad.  You  know  I  care  so  much.  What 
are  you  putting  before  the  committee  to-day?  " 

Fuller  turned  his  back  upon  her. 

"  Miss  Marchrose,  give  Lady  Rossiter  an  agenda." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  Edna  cried,  barely  glancing  at  it,  "  but 
I  don't  mean  just  the  headings.  For  instance,  '  Pro- 
posed Saturday  afternoon  classes.'  Is  there  really  any 


92  TENSION 

chance  of  it?     You  know  the  whole  question  is  very, 
very  near  my  heart,  Mr.  Fuller." 

"  It's  for  discussion  to-day,"  said  Mr.  Fuller,  bend- 
ing over  his  writing-table  and  intently  studying  the 
cover  of  Pitman's  Shorthand  Dictionary. 

"  Oh,  yes,  but  then  there's  so  much  that  doesn't  al- 
ways come  up  at  the  big  meetings.  Le  dessous  des 
cartes.  In  fact,"  Edna  tactfully  amended,  "  the  other 
side  of  the  cards." 

"  Pocket  Shorthand  Dictionary,  Centenary  Edition," 
was  Fuller's  explosive  reply,  as  he  traced  the  words  on 
the  book  before  him  with  a  square,  tobacco-stained 
forefinger. 

Julian  was  vividly  reminded  of  the  highly  unsuccess- 
ful tea-party  given  in  her  office  by  Miss  Marchrose. 
He  refrained  from  glancing  at  her,  feeling  intimately 
convinced  that  the  same  thought  was  in  her  mind  at 
the  moment. 

"Shall  we  make  a  move,  Fuller?     It's  just  time." 

Fairfax  Fuller,  with  extreme  and  obvious  thankful- 
ness, hastily  rose  to  comply  with  the  suggestion. 

Lady  Rossiter's  traditional  seat  was  at  the  right-hand 
side  of  the  chairman.  She  placed  herself  there  and 
glanced  round.  Miss  Marchrose  entered  just  behind 
Sir  Julian.  She  looked  not  at  all  shy,  but  merely  rather 
doubtful. 

Edna  half -rose,  with  benevolent  shielding  in  every 
line  of  her  admirably-hung  coat  and  skirt,  but  Mark 
Easter  was  before  her. 

"  Here,  Miss  Marchrose,  if  you  will,"  he  said  quietly, 
and  making  way  for  her  at  the  table  as  he  spoke.  She 
gave  him  a  quick  glance  of  acknowledgment  and  took 
the  place  that  he  indicated,  between  young  Cooper  and 


TENSION  93 

himself  at  the  end  of  the  long  table  furthest  from  the 
chair.  Julian  was  seated  at  the  bottom  of  the  table, 
facing  the  Alderman. 

"  Well,  ladies  and  gentlemen,"  said  the  chairman, 
"  I'm  happy  to  tell  you  that  our  Commercial  and  Tech- 
nical College  is  doing  well,  doing  very  well.  I  know 
how  much  you  all  have  this  enterprise  at  heart,  and, 
indeed,  I  may  say  that  to  the  youth  of  this  country,  it 
is  an  enterprise  which  cannot  —  which  can,  rather,  or 

—  er  —  I  should  say  cannot  be  of  anything  but  in- 
estimable advantage." 

The  Alderman's  opening  gambit  was  new  to  nobody. 
Cooper  put  his  pencil  behind  his  ear  until  such  time  as 
the  minutes  of  the  conference  should  claim  it  from  in- 
action, and  only  began  to  fidget  when  old  Bellew  made 
allusion  to  the  increased  attendance  in  the  evening 
classes  for  French,  "  so  ably  presided  over  by  Mr. 
Cooper." 

"  The  financial  statement  submitted  to  the  directors 
by  our  good  friend  Mr.  Fuller  there,  is  a  highly  satis- 
factory one,  and  the  recent  audit  was  conducted  to  the 
complete  —  er  —  satisfac  —  to  the  complete  —  that  is 

—  to  the  —  er  —  general " 

The  Alderman  paused  again,  struggled,  was  defeated, 
and  ended  defiantly,  "  To  the  general  satisfaction." 

"  I  will  ask  Mr.  Fuller  to  read  to  the  meeting  those 
figures  which  will  best  serve  to  put  the  position  clearly 
before  the  meeting." 

Fairfax  Fuller,  standing  at  attention,  his  voice  im- 
passive, and  his  face  full  of  triumph,  recited  a  rapid 
litany,  in  which  the  words  "  two  thousand  eight  hun- 
dred and  eleven  "  predominated. 

"  Bravo,"  murmured  Mark  Easter,  thus  encouraging 


94  TENSION 

the  members  of  the  meeting  to  a  general  rustle  of  ap- 
plause at  this  indication  that  something,  evidently  num- 
bering two  thousand  eight  hundred  and  eleven  parts, 
had  been  gained,  or  saved,  or  judiciously  made  use  of, 
for  their  benefit. 

"  That,  if  I  may  say  so,  gentlemen,"  Mr.  Fuller  im- 
pressively remarked,  "  is  a  very  remarkable  result. 
When  I  came  here  as  Supervisor,  three  years  ago,  mat- 
ters were  not  in  this  state.  Far  from  it.  Mr.  Mark 
Easter  here  can  tell  you  that,  so  can  Sir  Julian  Ros- 
siter.  The  College,  if  I  may  say  so,  has  pulled  itself 
together  since  then.  I  don't  wish  to  claim  any  credit 
for  myself."  ("Liar!"  mentally  ejaculated  Julian.) 
"  But  the  figures  at  the  end  of  each  year  have  shown  a 
very  marked  improvement.  I  hope  next  year  we  may 
do  better  still.  I  may  say,  that  I  hope  so  confidently." 

Fuller  sat  down  again,  pulling  up  the  legs  of  his 
trousers  at  the  knees,  and  sufficiently  intent  upon  the 
operation  to  miss  the  smile  of  congratulation  that  Lady 
Rossiter  was  holding  in  waiting  for  him. 

The  old  chairman,  breathing  heavily,  leant  across 
the  table  and  addressed  Sir  Julian  Rossiter. 

"  Now,  Sir  Julian,  you're  a  younger  man  than  I  am, 
and  I'm  going  to  ask  you  to  raise  the  one  or  two 
points  we  have  here  on  the  agenda.  I  think  we  want 
the  opinion  of  the  meeting  on  one  or  two  matters,  eh?  " 

Julian  spoke  rapidly,  and  as  concisely  as  possible. 
Cooper's  pencil  flew  across  the  pages  of  his  note-book. 

"  The  question  has  been  raised  of  keeping  the  College 
open  on  Saturday  afternoons.  There  is  plenty  of  evi- 
dence that,  if  we  did  so,  we  should  get  quite  a  number 
of  town  pupils.  The  early  closing  of  the  shops  would 
bring  us  various  shop  employees,  who  are  only  too 


TENSION  95 

anxious  to  give  an  hour  or  two  of  their  spare  time  to 
learning.  That,  I  believe,  applies  especially  to  the 
shorthand  and  typewriting  classes.  The  other  subjects, 
of  course,  have  always  been  in  less  demand.  The  num- 
ber of  students  is  easily  covered  by  the  evening  classes 
on  Tuesday  and  Fridays  for  such  subjects  as  ac- 
countancy, for  instance,  or  French.  The  question  is, 
therefore,  whether  it  would  not  be  worth  while  to  ar- 
range for  a  later  closing  on  Saturdays,  so  as  to  hold  a 
weekly  class  for  beginners  in  shorthand  and  typing.'* 

Sir  Julian  paused  and  Fairfax  Fuller  said  eagerly: 

"  I  could  engage  for  our  having  five  pupils,  straight 
off  the  reel,  sir.  I  actually  hold  that  number  of  ap- 
plications." 

"  Excellent,"  said  the  Alderman,  from  the  head  of 
the  table. 

"  Ah !  "  breathed  Lady  Rossiter.  "  One  would  be  so 
glad  and  proud,  I  feel  that  too,  very  strongly  —  to 
help  lay  the  foundation  of  knowledge  —  of  that  effi- 
ciency which  is  to  build  up  the  forces  of  our  Empire. 
After  all,  it  is  the  class  we  are  trying  to  reach  that  is 
the  very  backbone  of  the  country." 

The  irrelevant  diatribes  to  which  Lady  Rossiter  was 
almost  invariably  moved  by  a  General  Committee  meet- 
ing contributed  in  no  small  measure  to  her  husband's 
distaste  for  them. 

He  looked  straight  in  front  of  him  and  addressed 
the  chairman. 

"  The  whole  question,  of  course,  hinges  on  the  staff 
available.  Miss  Marchrose  and  Mr.  Fuller  are  of 
opinion  that  it  could  be  arranged,  but  before  approach- 
ing any  of  the  teachers,  it  was  thought  desirable  to  get 
the  committee's  opinion." 


96  TENSION 

"  The  question  being,"  ponderously  repeated  the  old 
Alderman,  looking  round  the  table,  "  the  question  be- 
ing, whether  or  not  the  College  is  to  open  on  Saturday 
afternoons  for  a  special  shorthand  and  typing  course." 

"  I  have  here  a  scheme,"  began  Fuller  eagerly,  but 
Lady  Rossiter's  clear  voice  interrupted  him. 

"  Mr.  Chairman,  I  am  only  a  woman,  amongst  all 
you  men,  but  I  want  you  to  let  me  speak." 

Edna  leant  forward  in  her  favourite  attitude,  her 
arms  folded  upon  the  table,  her  furs  flung  back. 

"  Delighted,  Lady  Rossiter,  delighted  to  hear  your 
views,"  growled  the  Alderman. 

Julian,  looking  down  his  nose,  saw  Fuller  thrust  his 
bull-neck  forward  and  jab  viciously  at  the  blotting- 
paper  in  front  of  him  with  a  blunt  pencil. 

Mark  Easter  was  pulling  at  his  moustache,  leaning 
well  back  in  his  chair,  and  Miss  Marchrose  was  gazing 
at  Lady  Rossiter.  Her  dark  brows  were  drawn  to- 
gether in  a  slight  frown,  that  might  have  indicated 
puzzledom  or  disapproval  alike. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Edna,  in  the  time-honoured 
opening  phrase  of  the  amateur,  "  it  seems  to  me,  that 
we  perhaps  none  of  us  quite  realise  what  it  would  mean 
to  ask  any  of  the  staff  to  give  up  that  precious  Satur- 
day. I  always  feel  that  it  must  mean  so  much  to  them. 
We,  who  can  wander  out  into  God's  beautiful  sunshine 
at  will,  can  hardly  grasp  what  it  must  be  like  to  be 
imprisoned  between  four  walls  all  the  week,  without 
free  time,  without  access  to  the  fresh  air,  the  movement 
of  the  world  outside.  Oh,"  cried  Edna,  in  a  very  im- 
passioned manner  indeed,  "  I  think  if  one  only  puts 
oneself  into  the  place  of  those  girl  and  women  prison- 


TENSION  97 

ers,  toiling  for  their  bread  and  butter  all  the  week,  it 
will  become  impossible  to  take  away  the  poor  little 
Saturday  half -holiday  which  is  all  they  have!  There 
is  no  one,  I  can  confidently  say,  who  has  our  great 
national  cause  more  at  heart  than  I  have,  who  would  do 
more  to  bring  the  light  of  education  into  the  drab  lives 
of  those  poor  shop  creatures,  but  it  seems  to  me  that, 
as  members  of  the  committee,  we  must  give  our  first 
thought,  our  first  consideration,  to  our  own  —  our  very 
own  workers.  I,  personally,  have  always  felt  the  staff 
at  the  College  to  be  my  very  own." 

Julian  dared  not  glance  at  the  representatives  of 
Lady  Rossiter's  very  own,  so  vividly  did  his  imagina- 
tion set  before  him  the  infuriated  lowering  of  Fuller's 
dark  brow,  and  the  probable  line  of  satire  round  Miss 
Marchrose's  curving  lips. 

He  had  frequently  before  heard  Lady  Rossiter  moved 
to  a  very  similar  eloquence,  but  neither  custom  nor  a 
resolute  avoidance  of  any  eye  in  the  room  could  pre- 
vent him  from  wincing  inwardly  while  her  voice  rang 
out. 

"  It  almost  seems  to  me  that  we  forget  sometimes  — 
oh,  I'm  not  speaking  personally,  Heaven  knows,  I'm 
weak  enough  myself  —  but  sometimes  I  think  we  for- 
get that  it's  flesh  and  blood  like  our  own  that  we're 
dealing  with.  These  men  and  women  who  work  for  a 
living  are  human  beings  like  ourselves !  " 

An  electric  silence  followed  the  announcement. 

Edna's  head  was  moved  slightly  backwards,  in  the 
manner  of  one  who  has  flung  down  the  gauntlet  fear- 
lessly. Her  eyes  travelled  slowly  round  the  table. 

Suddenly  she  uttered  an  impulsive  "  Ah! " 


98  TENSION 

Julian,  taken  unawares,  glanced  up  quickly.  His 
wife's  eager,  ardent  gaze  had  fallen  upon  Miss  March- 
rose,  motionless  in  her  place. 

"My  dear!"  she  exclaimed  half  under  her  breath, 
but  entirely  audibly,  "  I  forgot  you  —  I  forgot  you 
were  here.  Have  I  hurt  you  ?  " 

"Good  God!"  broke  from  Fairfax  Fuller,  and  al- 
most at  the  same  instant  Mark  Easter,  with  ingenious 
clumsiness,  sent  an  empty  chair  to  the  floor. 

Sir  Julian  set  his  teeth  and  stood  up. 

"  I  am  afraid  that  we  have  strayed  from  the  subject 
under  discussion.  May  I  suggest  that  Mr.  Fuller 
should  outline  the  scheme?  " 

"  Certainly,  Sir  Julian,  by  all  means  —  by  all  means," 
said  the  chairman,  looking  harassed. 

Fuller's  scheme  anticipated  the  humanitarian  doubts 
raised  by  Lady  Rossiter.  The  Saturday  class  should 
be  open  from  two  o'clock  to  four,  and  Saturday  duty 
taken  weekly  in  rotation  by  each  one  of  the  three  short- 
hand teachers  belonging  to  the  College.  The  classes 
of  the  week  should  be  so  rearranged  as  to  enable  those 
members  of  the  staff  who  had  been  at  work  on  Satur- 
day afternoon  to  return  to  the  College  at  midday  only 
on  Monday  morning. 

"  Excellent,"  said  Mark  Easter. 

"  The  Lady  Superintendent,  who  will  herself  kindly 
undertake  one  Saturday  class  in  three,  is  of  opinion  that 
the  proposition  is  entirely  practicable  and  would  meet 
with  every  response  from  the  teachers  concerned." 

He  turned  enquiringly  to  Miss  Marchrose. 

"  Yes,  certainly,"  she  said  briefly. 

"  Then  if  Miss  Marchrose  will  speak  to  the  two  lady 
teachers,  Miss  Farmer  and  Miss  Sandiloe " 


TENSION  99 

Mark  paused. 

"  Unless  anyone  else  wishes  to  raise  any  further  point 
in  that  connection,"  said  the  chairman,  "  I  may  take  it 
that  we  are  all  agreed  ?  " 

Sir  Julian,  half  against  his  will,  received  the  odd  im- 
pression that  everyone  was  suffering  from  a  strange 
sensation  as  of  being  shattered,  so  that  scarcely  any 
discussion  of  the  point  at  issue  ensued,  and  the  remain- 
ing business  of  the  day  was  disposed  of  between  Mark 
Easter  and  Alderman  Bellew  with  unwonted  rapidity. 

Fairfax  Fuller  spoke  no  word,  and  as  soon  as  the 
meeting  ended  left  the  room  with  no  slightest  pretence 
at  the  civility  of  a  valediction. 

"  Poor  old  Fuller !  "  said  Mark  to  Julian,  with  his 
tolerant  laugh. 

"  My  sympathies  are  with  Mr.  Fuller,"  declared 
Edna  lightly.  "  He  is  a  misogynist,  poor  dear.  I 
know  he  thinks  that  women  at  a  meeting  are  a  mistake ; 
he  was  looking  at  poor  Miss  Marchrose  with  such  an 
expression  of  contempt  and  fury!  However,  he  car- 
ried his  point  as  to  the  Saturday  classes,  and  his  scheme 
certainly  appealed  to  one.  All  the  same,  I'm  glad  I 
had  the  courage  to  utter  my  little  testimony  before  you 
all." 

Julian  refrained  from  looking  at  Mark  Easter. 

"  I  am  thinking  of  resigning  from  the  committee," 
he  remarked  gloomily.  "  Like  Mr.  Fuller,  I  am  a 
misogynist." 


VIII 

AFTER  this  gratifying  announcement  from  her  hus- 
band, it  may  be  supposed  the  more  readily  that  Lady 
Rossiter,  on  the  day  following  the  General  Committee 
meeting,  should  elect  to  discover  various  small  items 
of  business  requiring  her  presence  in  London. 

She  left  Culmhayes  on  Friday  evening,  and  the  fol- 
lowing morning  saw  Julian  at  Mark  Easter's  front 
door. 

"Come  out  after  wild  duck,  Mark?" 

"  Rather." 

"  The  keeper  tells  me  there  are  any  amount  out  Salt 
Marsh  way.  Could  we  raise  another  gun?  " 

"  There's  that  fellow  Garrett." 

"  Well,  bring  him  along,  if  he  cares  to  come.  Start 
from  here  at  two  o'clock  ?  " 

"  That'll  do.  I  have  to  be  at  the  office  this  morn- 
ing." 

"  Good  Lord,  Mark,  you  live  at  that  office,  I  believe, 
when  you  aren't  at  the  College.  What  does  your  sister 
say  to  you?" 

"  She  has  other  fish  to  fry,"  said  Mark  drily. 

Julian  admitted  the  truth  in  the  implication  when  he 
presently  encountered  Miss  Easter  loitering  along  the 
lane.  Her  golden  head  was  uncovered,  and  she  wore 
a  curious  cockney  medley  of  black  fur,  silk  decollete 
blouse,  tweed  skirt,  silk  stockings,  and  high-heeled  shoes 
of  thin  suede. 

100 


TENSION  loi 

She  said,  "  Oh,  Sir  Julian !  "  with  great  enthusiasm, 
and  insisted  upon  tripping  along  the  hard,  frozen  lane 
beside  him  as  far  as  his  own  gate. 

Sir  Julian,  who  thought  her  pretty,  if  absurd,  was 
always  able  to  endure  her  society  with  equanimity  for 
a  short  while,  and  made  amiable  enquiry  after  "  Why, 
Ben!" 

"Oh,  isn't  it  too,  too  wonderful?"  said  Iris,  in 
slightly  awe-stricken  tones.  "  The  little  tiny  seed  I 
tried  to  sow  bearing  such  wonderful  fruit  and  shed- 
ding light  in  so  many  dark  places!  " 

"  Very  wonderful,"  Julian  agreed,  mentally  applying 
the  epithet  to  the  phenomenon  of  any  seed  possessing 
the  peculiar  property  of  shedding  light  in  dark  places. 

"  It's  perfectly  dear  of  you  to  say  so,"  warmly  re- 
sponded the  authoress. 

"  Douglas  Garrett,  you  know,  my  great  friend,  he 
knows  the  most  fearful  amount  about  books,  and  he 
says  that  '  Why,  Ben ! '  has  simply  gone  straight  back 
to  earth." 

"  Sounds  rather  like  a  fox." 

"  I  always  think  there's  something  so  pure  and  strong 
and  passionate  about  the  soil.  That's  why  I  gave  Ben 
a  rural  setting.  The  peasantry  are  so  primitive.  I'll 
tell  you  a  secret.  I'm  really  down  here  to  study  the 
setting  for  my  next  book." 

"  Are  you  writing  another  one  now  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Iris,  in  rather  shocked  accents.  "  I'm 
simply  absorbing  local  colour  in  at  every  pore." 

"  You'd  better  come  out  on  Salt  Marsh  this  after- 
noon and  see  the  wild  duck.  I've  asked  Mark  to  bring 
Mr.  Garrett  and  we're  going  to  have  a  shot  at  them." 

Julian  did  not  make  the  suggestion  without  first 


102  TENSION 

calculating  the  chances  to  be  in  favour  of  Miss  Easter's 
declining  the  proposed  arrangement.  Nor  did  she  fail 
to  reply  with  the  typical  suburbanism : 

"  I  can't  bear  seeing  things  killed,  and  I  hate  the 
noise  of  guns  going  off.  Besides,  it's  so  cold.  But 
we'll  come  and  meet  you  at  tea-time." 

"We?" 

"  Oh,  I'm  going  to  take  that  girl  that  Mark  likes 
so  much  for  a  walk.  He  says  she  never  has  anyone  to 
talk  to." 

"  Miss  Marchrose?  " 

'  Yes,  I  think  she's  a  perfect  dear,  and  quite  awfully 
pretty." 

Julian  mentally  applauded  her. 

"  It  will  be  delightful  if  you'll  come  and  meet  us," 
he  said  cordially. 

"  You  must  come  in  and  make  tea  for  us  at  Culm- 
hayes,  if  you  will.  We  ought  to  be  at  the  cross-roads, 
just  this  side  of  Salt  Marsh,  soon  after  four.  It  will 
depend  on  the  light.  I  doubt  if  we  shall  be  able  to  go 
on  much  after  half -past  three." 

Julian's  prognostication  was  verified,  but  before  the 
three  men  had  reached  the  cross-roads  ,they  encoun- 
tered Iris  and  Miss  Marchrose,  silhouetted  against  the 
leaden  sky  of  a  rapidly-advancing  winter  twilight. 

"  You've  come  a  long  way !  "  exclaimed  Julian,  with 
an  involuntary  thought  for  the  silk  stockings  and  suede 
shoes  which  he  felt  convinced  that  Iris  was  still  wearing. 

"  It  wasn't  too  far  for  you?  "  asked  Mark  of  Miss 
Marchrose,  with  friendly  solicitude. 

She  only  shook  her  head  in  reply,  but  Julian,  with 
the  odd  intuition  of  a  man  with  whom  the  observation 
of  humanity  has  always  been  of  prevailing  interest, 


TENSION  103 

knew  that  she  was  inwardly  responsive  with  all  the 
quick  gratitude  of  femininity  for  a  man's  rarely-ex- 
pressed consideration  for  her  physical  limitations. 

Iris  said  in  a  rather  enfeebled  voice: 

"  Oh,  Douglas,  have  you  been  cruel  and  brutal  and 
shot  all  those  poor  dear  birds?  How  many  did  you 
kill?" 

Mr.  Garrett  made  pretence  of  not  having  heard  the 
enquiry,  for  reasons  which  Julian  was  at  no  pains  to 
guess,  having  watched  his  guest's  display  of  incompe- 
tence with  some  dismay  throughout  the  afternoon. 

"  I  want  you  to  notice  the  strange,  strong  atmos- 
pheric smell  of  decay  in  these  lanes,  Iris/'  said  Mr. 
Garrett,  taking  control  of  the  conversation  in  a  high- 
handed manner  that  precluded  further  idle  enquiries 
on  the  day's  sport. 

"  The  whole  place  is  redolent  of  winter  and  the  dying 
year.  We  realists  must  take  in  deep  draughts  of 
atmosphere." 

To  which  Iris  rather  inadequately  responded  by  a 
high,  squeaking  enquiry  as  to  Douglas's  dreadful, 
dreadful  gun  and  the  possibility  of  its  going  off  un- 
expectedly and  killing  her. 

Miss  Marchrose  fell  into  step  between  Mark  and 
Julian,  her  hands  thrust  boyishly  into  the  pockets  of 
her  coat. 

"  Iris  is  afraid  of  getting  more  atmosphere  than  she 
bargained  for,"  said  Mark,  with  a  laugh.  "  A  shoot- 
ing accident  would  make  first-rate  copy,  I  suppose." 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Julian.  "  The  interest  attaching 
to  violent  action  always  appears  to  me  to  be  rather 
a  fictitious  one." 

"  So    it    is,"    Miss    Marchrose    answered    quickly. 


104  TENSION 

"  Surely  in  real  life  the  majority  of  dramas  are  almost 
devoid  of  violent  action,  nowadays.  I  mean  that  a 
crisis,  off  the  stage,  is  not  necessarily  brought  about 
by  a  duel,  or  a  murder,  or  an  elopement." 

"  The  world  is  more  subtle  than  it  used  to  be," 
Julian  assented.  "  What  you  call  a  crisis,  after  all  is 
mostly  an  affair  of  the  emotions.  It  is  generally  led 
up  to  by  an  atmospheric  tension  and  culminates  in  some 
ultra  violence  of  emotion,  whether  of  anger  or  sor- 
row or  resolution." 

Miss  Marchrose  glanced  up  quickly  at  the  last  words, 
and  although  it  was  too  dark  for  him  to  see  her  ex- 
pression, Sir  Julian  again  felt  with  certainty  that  some 
inexplicable  telepathy  had  conveyed  to  him  her  thought. 

"  She  is  remembering  Clarence  Isbister,"  he  told 
himself  in  a  flash. 

She  spoke  quietly  enough. 

"  Yes,  I  know  what  you  mean  by  that  atmospheric 
tension  —  a  sort  of  awful,  unspoken  sense  of  disaster 
and  yet  nothing  happening.  Only  everything  is  hap- 
pening, inside,  and  everyone  knows  it  without  being 
able  to  define  it." 

"  Give  me  a  good  honest  earthquake,"  said  Mark 
Easter. 

"  I'm  with  you,  Mark,"  Julian  agreed. 

"  A  tangible  misfortune  is  nothing,  compared  to 
those  perfectly  indefinable  indications  of  disturbance 
on  what  I  suppose  we  may  call  the  mental  plane." 

"  A  thing  you  can't  lay  hold  of,"  said  Mark,  trans- 
lating into  his  own  phraseology. 

"  Those  are  much  the  worst,"  Miss  Marchrose  re- 
peated, with  conviction.  "  Sometimes  I  wonder  if, 
years  and  years  hence,  when  things  are  very  much 


TENSION  105 

more  advanced,  those  weapons,  belonging  to  what  Sir 
Julian  called  the  mental  plane,  will  come  to  be  the 
only  ones  used." 

"  It  would  simplify  war/' 

"  I  wonder/'  said  Julian.  "  Atmosphere  is  a  pow- 
erful weapon." 

There  was  a  silence  as  they  trudged  on  steadily. 

"  On  the  whole,"  was  Sir  Julian's  summing-up, 
"  the  big  calamities,  such  as  battle,  murder,  and  sud- 
den death,  are  no  longer  essential  to  constitute  crisis. 
The  same  reactions  in  humanity's  present  stage  of  de- 
velopment are  produced  without  any  visible  action  or 
events.  Our  consciousness  has  shifted  to  a  more  com- 
plex level." 

"  A  sign  of  the  evolution  of  the  race?  " 

"  Well,  yes.  It  implies  a  greater  responsiveness  to 
the  invisible  event." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Miss  Marchrose,  "  it  is  easier  to 
cope  with  the  obvious,  symbolised,  let  us  say,  by  tele- 
grams, or  your  good  honest  earthquake." 

Mark  Easter  laughed. 

"  Telegrams  and  earthquakes  meet  with  more  sym- 
pathy, and  certainly  with  more  assistance,  from  one's 
neighbours,  than  any  amount  of  atmospheric  pressure," 
said  he. 

Miss  Marchrose  laughed  too,  but  the  conviction  re- 
mained with  Julian  that  she  had  inwardly  recalled  a 
connection  between  their  discussion  and  that  story, 
whatever  the  rights  of  it  might  be,  that  linked  her 
name  to  that  of  Captain  Clarence  Isbister. 

As  they  neared  Culmhayes,  traversing  deeply  sunken 
lanes  and  an  occasional  wind-swept  field,  Iris  and  Mr. 
Garrett  fell  further  and  further  behind. 


io6  TENSION 

It  was  obvious  that  the  creator  of  "Why,  Ben!" 
preferred  her  reversions  to  the  soil  in  the  figurative 
sense  of  the  words. 

Occasional  encouragement  from  her  escort  floated 
disjointedly,  and  rather  with  an  effect  of  breathless- 
ness,  upon  the  cold  air. 

"...  Should  like  to  show  you  our  own  Highland 
peat  bogs  .  .  .  our  native  heath  ...  us  Kelts  .  .  ." 

It  was  evident  that  fatigue  was  playing  havoc  with 
the  purity  of  Mr.  Garrett's  English. 

"  Iris  isn't  used  to  walking,"  Mark  observed  rather 
apologetically,  "  and  you've  come  a  long  way." 

"I  hope  she  isn't  too  tired.  It  was  my  doing;  I 
love  getting  out  to  Salt  Marsh." 

"  I  know  you  do,"  said  Mark  gently.  "  I  wish  you 
could  get  away  from  Culmouth  more  often." 

Mark  was  always  interested. 

Therein,  Julian  reflected,  lay  the  half  of  his  charm. 

"  Did  Iris  come  for  you  to  the  College  this  after- 
noon? " 

"  No,  I  called  for  her  on  my  way  out,  but  she's  been 
up  to  the  College  quite  often,  and  wants  to  learn 
typewriting.  I  should  like  to  teach  her  myself  if 
Mr.  Fuller  will  let  me." 

"  Fuller  will  let  you  arrange  anything  that  you  like, 
and  think  best,  only  you've  got  enough  to  do  already. 
I  don't  know  how  you  get  through  it  all." 

Miss  Marchrose  uttered  neither  the  meaningless  prot- 
estations nor  the.  pseudo-heroic  acceptances  habitually 
reserved  for  such  intimations  of  indispensability.  She 
said,  "  I  enjoy  it  thoroughly,  you  know.  Miss  Easter 
brought  your  children  to  the  College  to-day,  which 
created  a  diversion." 


TENSION  107 

Mark  uttered  a  rather  incoherent  sound,  not  inex- 
pressive of  dismay. 

"  Dare  I  ask  how  my  children  comported  them- 
selves ?" 

"  They  were  quite  good." 

"  Poor  things !  "  said  Mark,  with  a  half -laugh. 
"  They  are  not  often  quite  good.  The  Rector's  daugh- 
ter is  only  with  them  for  an  hour  or  two  in  the 
mornings,  and  she  complains  that  Ruthie  is  very  noisy 
and  intractable,  and  then  Sarah  has  them  more  or  less 
for  the  rest  of  the  day ;  but  she  has  no  proper  control 
over  them,  and  the  boy  is  always  in  disgrace.  I  don't 
quite  know  what  he  does." 

The  vastness  of  the  field  of  conjecture  thus  opened 
up  apparently  held  Miss  Marchrose  silent. 

"  Iris  is  very  kind  to  them,  but  she  spoils  Ruthie, 
on  the  whole.  And  really,  you  know,"  said  Mark 
apologetically,  "  I  think  Ruthie  is  the  more  in  need 
of  being  sat  upon  of  the  pair." 

Miss  Marchrose  laughed,  but  she  made  no  endearing 
pretence  of  a  tender-heartedness  roused  to  rebellion 
at  the  idea  of  the  requisite  discipline. 

Sir  Julian  reflected  that,  however  thoroughly  she 
might  be  aware  of  the  peculiar  circumstances  govern- 
ing Mark's  domestic  arrangements,  she  had  at  all 
events  no  intention  of  making  capital  out  of  them  by 
a  display  of  sentimental  interest  in  Mark's  singularly 
unattractive  progeny. 

Edna's  Cassandra-like  prophecies  of  the  danger 
threatening  Mark  Easter's  peace  of  mind  recurred  to 
him,  and  he  felt  vaguely  uneasy.  The  two  beside  him 
were  talking  with  a  complete  ease  that  denoted  at  least 
a  very  secure  sense  of  sympathy,  although  Julian's 


io8  TENSION 

perceptions  could  detect  no  undercurrent  of  deeper 
emotion. 

At  Culmhayes,  the  light  streaming  from  the  open 
door  revealed  Miss  Marchrose  with  a  fresh,  vivid 
colour  that  became  her  infinitely,  and  eyes  full  of 
gaiety  and  animation. 

Julian  ordered  tea  and  was  conscious  of  a  perfectly 
distinct  relief  at  the  absence  of  Edna's  habitual  kind, 
pervasive  welcome.  He  was  aware  that,  had  his  wife 
been  present,  the  tea-party  would  not  have  prolonged 
itself  as  it  did  over  the  fire  in  the  library;  still  less 
would  Iris's  small  piping  soprano  have  largely  mo- 
nopolised the  conversation  with  anecdotal  gush  relative 
to  the  inspiration,  production,  and  reception  of  "  Why, 
Ben!" 

And  yet  Julian,  in  despite  of  his  almost  unlimited 
disesteem  for  the  masterpiece  in  question,  listened  to 
its  creator's  artless  self-advertisement  altogether  con- 
tentedly, idly  watching,  as  he  did  so,  the  firelight  play 
on  the  rather  saturnine  face  of  Mr.  Douglas  Garrett, 
punctuating  with  portentous  movements  of  the  head 
and  assenting  monosyllables  the  discourse  of  his  pret- 
tily idiotic  disciple  in  the  realms  of  idealism.  Watch- 
ing also  the  almost  motionless  gaze  which  Mark 
Easter's  blue  eyes  kept  turned  towards  the  shadow 
in  which  stood  the  great  armchair,  beside  which  he 
had  drawn  his  own. 

Miss  Marchrose  was  leaning  back,  almost  invisible 
in  the  flickering  firelight  that  supplemented  the  dis- 
tant electricity  over  the  deserted  tea  equipage.  Sir 
Julian  could  hardly  see  her,  but  from  time  to  time  he 
heard  her  speak,  and  thought  again  that  her  voice, 
with  vibrations  and  intonations  full  of  harmony,  was 


TENSION  109 

sufficiently  arresting  to  constitute  a  charm  superior 
to  that  of  physical  beauty. 

Iris,  fluffy  and  brilliant  both  at  once,  actually  failed 
to  rouse  in  him  that  irritated  scorn  for  her  absurdity 
which  almost  invariably  overpowered  his  pleasure  in 
her  extreme  prettiness.  Even  her  literary  pretensions 
sounded  less  outrageous  than  usual  in  that  assembly 
of  which  the  peace  and  friendly  well-being  seemed  to 
Julian's  acute  sensitiveness  to  be  almost  tangible  en- 
tities. He  did  not  seek  to  define  to  himself  the  most 
unwonted  kindliness  with  which  Iris  Easter  actually 
caused  him  to  regard  her  when  she  suddenly  spoke  in 
praise  of  Miss  Marchrose's  singing,  and  said  that  she 
would  like  to  hear  her  again. 

"  '  Maxwelton's  braes  are  bonny,'  "  Mark  hummed 
under  his  breath. 

"  I'll  sing  it  for  you  again,  some  day,"  said  Miss 
Marchrose.  And  although  she  spoke  quite  lazily,  with- 
out turning  her  head,  in  that  moment  Sir  Julian 
realised  that  his  latent  compassion  for  the  possible 
victim  of  a  misplaced  attraction  was  not  destined  to  be 
called  forth  by  his  friend,  by  light-hearted,  easy-going 
Mark  Easter,  but  by  Miss  Marchrose,  whom  Fairfax 
Fuller  had  called  "  as  hard  as  nails." 

If  was  seven  o'clock  before  they  left  Culmhayes. 

"  Mark,  we  shall  be  late  for  dinner,"  said  his  sister. 
"  Not  that  it  matters  very  much,  since  Douglas  is 
coming  to  dinner,  and  he'll  be  just  as  late  as  we  are. 
We're  not  dressing." 

Mr.  Garrett  raised  himself  rather  reluctantly  out  of 
his  armchair. 

"  Oh,"  said  Iris,  on  a  sudden  piercing  note  of  in- 
spiration, to  Miss  Marchrose,  "  do  come  too.  I'm 


no  TENSION 

sure  you'll  be  too  late  for  anything  at  that  awful  farm 
place,  and  we  should  so  like  to  have  you.  Then  you 
could  sing  '  Annie  Laurie '  for  Mark." 

Miss  Marchrose  declined  the  invitation  in  spite  of 
the  one-sided  angle  of  solicitation  to  which  Iris  in- 
clined her  golden  head,  but  Julian  thought  that  she 
seemed  pleased  at  the  younger  girl's  very  evident  cor- 
diality. 

He  listened  next  moment  with  a  surprise  half- 
shadowed  by  a  vague  unformulated  suspicion,  as  Iris 
suddenly  urged  upon  her  brother  the  necessity  for  his 
escorting  Miss  Marchrose  to  her  lodgings. 

Extravagant  solicitude  for  the  welfare  of  a  member 
of  her  own  sex  was  no  habitual  foible  of  Miss  Easter's, 
and  for  a  moment  Julian  wondered  whether  she  thought 
herself  to  be  doing  her  brother  a  service. 

Miss  Marchrose,  however,  very  decidedly  declined 
all  companionship  on  her  short  walk,  and  Mark 
showed  no  disposition  to  force  the  point. 

Sir  Julian  said  nothing  at  all,  but  went  with  the 
guests  to  the  gates  of  the  drive. 

"  Ta-ta !  "  said  Miss  Easter  in  preposterous  valedic- 
tion, raising  herself  on  tiptoes,  and  clinging  in  an  en- 
gaging manner  to  Mr.  Garrett's  elbow. 

"  Good  night,"  said  Miss  Marchrose  generally,  and 
turned  upon  her  way. 

Sir  Julian  accompanied  her  to  the  farm  without 
evoking  any  protestation  but  a  laughing  one,  and  she 
told  him  how  much  she  had  enjoyed  the  afternoon. 

"  I'm  glad,"  said  Sir  Julian. 

Walking  back  alone  to  Culmhayes,  he  wondered 
whether  he  had  spoken  the  truth. 

His  gladness,  at  all  events,  was  considerably  modi- 


TENSION  in 

fied  by  the  recollection  of  that  odd  iiash  of  illumination 
which  had  come  to  him. 

"  It  is  no  business  of  mine,"  Julian  told  himself, 
shrugging  his  shoulders  with  a  timely  recollection  of 
his  favourite  bugbear,  officiousness.  And  all  through 
the  solitary  evening,  and  his  exceeding  appreciation  of 
such  solitude,  he  thought  about  the  business  which  was 
none  of  his. 


IX 

PERHAPS  the  closest  bond  of  union  between  Julian 
Rossiter  and  his  wife  now  consisted  in  the  common 
dismay  which  invaded  them  when  Ruthie  and  Ambrose 
Easter  thought  fit  to  inflict  themselves,  uninvited,  upon 
the  Culmhayes  establishment. 

On  the  morning  after  Edna's  return  from  London, 
she  was  writing  in  the  morning-room,  when  a  re- 
spectfully resentful  servant  informed  her  that  Miss 
Ruthie  and  Master  Ambrose  were  at  the  front  door,  de- 
claring an  urgent  necessity  for  seeing  Lady  Rossiter. 

"  Tell  them  I  am  busy  writing,"  said  Edna  hastily, 
certainly  not  pausing  for  the  application  of  her  fa- 
vourite, "  Is  it  kind,  is  it  wise,  is  it  true?  "  since  it  was 
neither  the  first  nor  the  last,  and  eventually  turned 
out  to  be  far  from  compliant  with  even  the  second 
regulation,  since  the  visitors,  accepting  Horber's  re- 
buff with  deceptive  quiet,  immediately  made  their  way 
round  to  the  window  of  the  morning-room,  where 
they  startled  Lady  Rossiter  considerably  by  suddenly 
appearing,  with  flattened  noses  and  glaring  eyeballs, 
against  the  pane. 

She  made  imperious  signs  at  them  with  an  ivory 
penholder,  without  avail.  Unable  to  contemplate  the 
prospect  of  pursuing  her  morning  avocations  under  the 
mouthing  pantomime  by  which  Ruthie  sought  to  con- 
vey her  desire  for  immediate  admission,  Lady  Rossi- 

112 


TENSION  113 

ter  flung  open  the  window,  shivering  at  the  rush  of  the 
raw  morning  cold. 

"  Good  morning,  children,"  she  said  forbearingly. 

All  Lady  .Rossiter's  Christianity  was  required  to 
induce  her  to  accept  as  even  faintly  probable  the  ulti- 
mate evolution  of  a  Divine  Spark  from  the  personality 
of  Ruthie.  But  she  always  felt  bound  to  act  upon 
such  an  assumption,  if  only  because  Sir  Julian  so 
firmly  and  completely  rejected  it. 

"  I  thought  Horber  told  you  I  was  busy,  Ruthie. 
I  can't  see  either  of  you  now,  you  must  run  home 
again." 

"  Auntie  Iris  is  here,  too,'*  said  Ruthie  trium- 
phantly. 

Lady  Rossiter  did  not  relegate  the  value  of  Auntie 
Iris'  society  to  the  abysmal  depths  of  contempt  to 
which  Sir  Julian  had  long  since  uncharitably  consigned 
it,  partly  because  her  principles  never  allowed  her  any 
point  of  view  other  than  one  consciously  superior  to 
that  of  her  husband's,  and  partly  because  Auntie  Iris 
had  always  been  prone  to  seek  her  advice  with  a  cer- 
tain gushing  deference  that  was  not  without  its  appeal. 
Nevertheless,  she  received  with  a  very  apparent 
absence  of  elation  the  announcement  of  her  young 
neighbour's  proximity. 

"  Where  is  Auntie  Iris?" 

"  She  is  with  Sir  Julian.  He  met  us  all  in  the 
drive." 

"  Did  he  tell  you  to  come  up  to  the  house  and 
find  me?" 

"  Oh,  no,  we  came  all  of  ourselves.  We've  got  such 
a  piece  of  news." 

Lady  Rossiter  was  reminded  of  an  earlier  occasion, 


ii4  TENSION 

when  the  heralds  of  Auntie  Iris  had  thrust  themselves 
unbidden  into  her  presence. 

"  Has  '  Why,  Ben! '  gone  into  a  second  edition?  " 

She  had  not  reckoned  with  the  proneness  of  a  new 
interest  to  oust  an  old  one  from  youthful  minds. 

Ambrose  and  Ruthie  both  looked  at  her  with  the 
lacklustre  gaze  and  hanging  under- jaw  of  utter  unre- 
sponsiveness. 

"  I  can't  keep  the  window  open  any  longer,  it's 
too  cold.  Run  back  to  Auntie  Iris,  now." 

"  But  we  haven't  told  you  the  news." 

"  Quick,  then." 

"  You  must  guess  first,"  said  Ruthie  loudly  and  in- 
exorably. 

Ambrose  thrust  his  large  pale  face  forward  and  un- 
expectedly snatched  the  dallying  announcement  from 
the  lips  of  his  sister,  perhaps  from  a  well-grounded 
fear  that  it  must  otherwise  be  uttered  from  without  an 
abruptly-closed  window. 

"  Auntie  Iris  is  going  to  marry  Mr.  Garrett !  " 

Lady  Rossiter  was  left  no  time  in  which  to  utter  pos- 
sible congratulations,  as  the  momentary  advantage  reft 
from  his  senior  by  Ambrose  was  dearly  paid  for  by 
him  in  the  gale  of  bufferings  to  which  she  instantly 
subjected  him. 

"  Ruthie !  Let  go  of  your  little  brother  this  mo- 
ment! How  dare  you?" 

Slap! 

Scream ! 

Bang!     Slap! 

"  Ruth!     I  am  ashamed  of  you." 

Lady  Rossiter  clung  to  the  curtains  with  one  strong 


TENSION  115 

white  hand  and  endeavoured  to  reach  and  to  separate 
these  makers  of  a  hideous  brawl  with  the  other,  but 
was  placed  at  a  disadvantage  by  the  extreme  proba- 
bility of  overbalancing  herself  and  contributing  an 
anti-climax  to  the  situation. 

"  I'll  pay  you  out,  Peekaboo,  I  will,"  bellowed 
Ruthie  viciously,  and  abundantly  making  good  the 
threat  as  she  uttered  it. 

Nor  did  she  cease  belabouring  her  victim  until  he  had 
torn  himself  from  her  grasp  and  fled  back  to  the  se- 
curity of  the  avenue  as  fast  as  his  short  legs  could 
cover  the  ground. 

Edna  raised  her  person  from  its  attitude  of  perilous 
incline. 

A  more  unprecedented  opportunity  for  preaching  the 
great  rule  of  love,  with  the  text,  as  it  were,  under  her 
own  window,  had  never  yet  come  to  rouse  that  passion 
for  propaganda  which  is  so  vital  a  characteristic  of 
those  who  know  least  of  human  nature. 

It  may  definitely  be  assumed  that  Edna,  gravely  com- 
pelling the  representative  of  a  younger  generation  into 
the  morning-room,  and  confronting  her  with  earnest 
tenderness,  was  more  bent  upon  delivering  herself  of 
beautiful  truths  than  upon  ascertaining  their  applica- 
bility or  otherwise  to  the  individuality  of  her  exceed- 
ingly unpromising  convert. 

"  Ruthie,  Ruthie,  do  you  know  that  cruelty  and  vio- 
lence are  the  very  worst  sins  that  anyone  can  commit? 
To  hurt  somebody  else  is  to  hurt  one's  own  soul.  .  .  . 
You  are  sinning  against  the  greatest  law  in  the  whole 
world  when  you  behave  as  you  did  just  now  —  the 
Law  of  Love." 


n6  TENSION 

Ruthie  was  silent,  and  Lady  Rossiter,  with  a  fleeting 
thought  of  what  an  admirable  mother  she  would  have 
made,  drew  the  child  gently  to  her. 

"  Don't  you  know  that  we  all  contribute,  by  every- 
thing we  do  and  say,  to  the  good  and  bad  in  the  world  ? 
When  you  are  angry,  you  send  out  black,  ugly  thoughts 
that  help  to  destroy  all  the  good  and  beautiful  harmony 
that  God  has  put  into  this  lovely  world." 

Ruthie  cast  an  enquiring  glance  out  of  the  window 
at  the  bleak,  grey  sky,  perfectly  bare  borders  and  rather 
uncompromising  Scotch  firs  which  were  alone  visible 
at  the  moment  of  this  lovely  world. 

"  When  you  have  gentle,  loving,  beautiful  thoughts," 
said  Lady  Rossiter  eloquently,  "  they  send  out  little 
wordless  messages  into  the  air  and  go  to  join  the  great 
Divine  chorus  of  Love  that  is  going  on  everywhere 
without  stopping.  You  know  we  are  all  giving  out 
something  all  the  time?  " 

Ruthie  for  the  first  time  looked  faintly  interested. 

"Am  I  giving?" 

"  Yes,  dear,  that's  what  I'm  trying  to  tell  you  about. 
That's  why  little  Ruthie  must " 

"Is  Daddy?" 

"  Certainly." 

"Is  Peekaboo?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Lady  Rossiter,  beginning  to  wonder  if 
a  catalogue  raisonnc  of  the  Easter  family  and  its  con- 
nections was  to  be  unrolled  before  her. 

"  Even  Ambrose  is  not  too  little  to " 

"Do  you  give?" 

"  I  try  to  do  so,  Ruthie,  certainly." 

"Does  Sir  Julian  give?" 

Lady  Rossiter  not  impossibly  struggled  for  a  mo- 


TENSION  117 

ment  with  an  unhallowed  impulse  before  answer- 
ing: 

"  I  hope  so.  But  will  you  try  to  remember  what 
I've  been  telling  you,  Ruthie?  It  is  not  our  business 
to  think  about  whether  other  people  give  out  in  the 
right  way  or  not  —  never,  never  judge  others,"  said 
Edna  parenthetically.  "  But  I  do  want  you  to  re- 
member about  Love.  That  it  is  the  biggest  thing  in 
all  the  world  and  that  nothing  is  quite  so  bad  and  ugly 
as  to  be  angry,  or  unkind,  or  unloving.  Love  is  what 
matters  most,  always." 

Miss  Easter,  more  sua,  contrived  to  combine  a  sort 
of  perverted  relevance  with  indecent  vulgarity  in  her 
bored  reply : 

"  Mr.  Garrett  kissed  Auntie  Iris  this  morning.  Me 
and  Peekaboo  were  hiding  in  the  cowhouse  and  we  saw. 
Auntie  Iris  said  it  was  love." 

Lady  Rossiter  received  in  silence  this  singular  appli- 
cation of  the  Divine  Law  which  she  had  promulgated 
so  often  and  so  indiscriminately  that  she  had  long  ago 
come  to  look  upon  it  as  her  own  production. 

"  What  have  the  children  been  doing?  "  said  Mark's 
voice  at  the  window.  "  Lady  Rossiter,  I'm  afraid 
they've  been  worrying  you  dreadfully.  I'm  ashamed 
of  them." 

"  Come  in,  Mark,"  said  Edna,  not  without  relief. 
"  I  hope,  after  what  I've  been  saying  to  her,  that 
Ruthie  is  going  to  make  it  up  with  Ambrose  at  once." 

Mark  lifted  his  daughter  out  of  the  window  and 
despatched  her  in  immediate  search  of  her  injured 
junior. 

He  leant  against  the  low  sill  of  the  open  window 
as  Lady  Rossiter  came  towards  it. 


n8  TENSION 

She  had  long  ago  formed  the  habit,  which  she  would 
not  have  admitted  as  being  exceedingly  agreeable  to 
her,  of  taking  it  as  her  right  to  advise  and  question 
Mark  Easter  on  all  personal  matters  connected  with 
his  wifeless  household.  She  belonged,  indeed,  to  the 
class  of  those  women  who  have  a  perfectly  genuine 
love  of  approaching  any  admittedly  scabreux  topics 
which  intimately  and  painfully  touch  the  life  of  another 
—  a  form  of  prurience  sometimes  decorated  with  such 
titles  as  "  the  tender  touch  of  a  good,  pure  woman." 

"Poor  little  Ruthie!  I've  tried  to  talk  to  her  a 
little  bit.  It's  motherhood  that's  lacking  in  their  lives, 
Mark." 

It  might  reasonably  be  supposed  that  such  mother- 
hood as  the  unfortunate  victim  to  alcohol  who  had 
partnered  Mark's  few,  unhappy  years  of  matrimony 
had  afforded  to  his  children  was  as  well  out  of  their 
way,  but  Mark  made  no  such  unsympathetic  rejoinder. 
He  gazed  at  Lady  Rossiter  with  the  straight,  candid 
look  that  had  never  held  anything  but  honest  gratitude 
and  admiration  for  Sir  Julian's  beautiful  wife. 

"They  are  getting  older,"  he  said  disconsolately, 
"  and  they  do  not  seem  to  improve." 

Mark  paused,  as  though  weighing  this  extremely 
lenient  description  of  his  objectionable  family. 

"  Ambrose  can  go  to  school  in  a  year  or  so,"  said 
Lady  Rossiter  hopefully. 

"  I  suppose  so,  but  the  worst  of  it  is  that  he  really 
is  delicate.  Now,  Ruthie  is  as  strong  as  a  horse,  but 
then  I  never  did  like  the  idea  of  sending  a  little  girl 
to  school." 

"I  can't  see  any  alternative,"  Edna  said  decidedly. 
"  She  will  have  to  be  properly  educated,  and  a  gov- 


TENSION  119 

erness,  in  the  circumstances,  is  out  of  the  ques- 
tion." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  doubtfully  answered  Mark. 

"  It's  very  unlikely  one  could  get  a  good  daily  one, 
down  here,  and  a  resident  one  —  you're  a  young  man 
still,  Mark,  and  people  would  talk,"  said  Edna,  seizing 
instinctively  on  the  aspect  of  the  question  that  it  would 
afford  her  the  most  enjoyment  to  discuss.  Had  Mark 
been  less  than  extraordinarily  single-minded,  it  would 
also  have  afforded  him  the  maximum  of  discomfort  in 
listening  to  her. 

"  You  see,  the  circumstances  are  altogether  excep- 
tional, and  make  things  very  hard  for  you,  I'm  afraid. 
You  are  a  married  man  still,  and  there  are  always 
dangers.  Well,  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  there 
are  things  one  can't  put  into  words,"  said  Edna,  with 
no  intention  of  being  taken  au  pied  de  la  lettre. 

"  And  Mark,  there's  another  thing.  Ruthie  is  old 
enough  to  begin  asking  questions  about  her  poor 
mother.  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  telling 
her?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  Mark  said  simply.  "  I've  never 
thought  about  it." 

Lady  Rossiter  gave  a  sort  of  musical  groan. 

"  For  all  one  knows,  servants  and  people  may  have 
told  her  already,  and  it  should  have  been  so  tenderly, 
so  delicately  done !  " 

"  No,  no,"  said  Mark.  "  Sarah  is  a  good  creature, 
though  she's  rough;  she  has  always  been  loyalty  it- 
self." 

"  I'm  sure  she  has ;  but  after  all,  Mark,  it  is  a 
thing  which  everybody  round  here  knows.  Ruthie 
may  hear  something  any  day.  If  ever  she  does,  re- 


120  TENSION 

member  that  you  can  always  send  her  straight  to  me. 
Although  it  hurts  so  to  dwell  on  those  sad,  ugly 
things,  I  would  always  put  all  that  aside  if  I  could  help 
you  or  yours,  Mark." 

Edna  eyed  the  recipient  of  these  anticipated  sacri- 
fices with  a  long,  compassionate  look.  If  a  deep,  secret 
gratification  held  its  place  in  that  thoughtful  gaze, 
Mark  Easter  was  not  likely  to  be  any  more  aware  of 
it  than  was  Edna  herself. 

"  Tell  me,"  she  exclaimed,  as  though  struck  by  a 
sudden  thought,  "  I'm  right  in  thinking  that  every- 
body does  know?  There's  no  mystery,  no  conspiracy 
of  silence  about  it  all  ?  " 

"  Not  that  I  know  of,"  said  Mark,  frankly  aston- 
ished. "  You  know,  you  couldn't  expect  people  to 
come  up  and  ask  me  how  I  like  it,  or  anything  of  that 
sort,  could  you  ?  " 

Edna's  gravity  did  not  for  an  instant  relax  at  the 
rueful  extravagance  of  the  suggestion. 

"  I  don't  know  if  I  ought  to  say  this,  Mark — but 
I  think  I  must.  One  can't  let  one's  friends  risk  ship- 
wreck just  for  lack  of  a  little  moral  courage." 

It  might  well  have  been  supposed  that  any  ship- 
wreck destined  to  Mark  Easter  had  long  since  passed 
into  the  realm  of  accomplished  fact,  but  it  was  evident 
that  Edna  had  in  view  other  and  more  pressing  possi- 
bilities of  disaster. 

"  You've  thought  of  the  trouble,  the  wretchedness 
that  might  be  entailed  on  others,  and  the  self-reproach 
to  yourself,  if  there  was  any  want  of  openness  about 
the  whole  miserable  question?" 

"  But  I  don't  think  there  is  any  want  of  openness," 
said  Mark  blankly. 

"  Mark,  forgive  me.     You  don't  resent  my  speaking 


TENSION  121 

about  it  all?  You  know  I  do  it  only  because  I'm  so 
dreadfully  sorry,  and  couldn't  bear  that  there  should 
be  anything  further  .  .  ." 

"  You  are  everything  that  is  kind,"  said  Mark 
steadily,  "  and  you  and  Sir  Julian  are  the  best  friends 
I  have  in  the  world." 

Edna  could  have  dispensed  with  the  inclusion  of 
her  husband's  name. 

It  served,  in  fact,  to  stem  her  tide  of  warning,  the 
more  especially  as  she  felt  more  or  less  convinced  that 
Mark  was  not  making  the  intended  application  of  her 
words. 

She  gave  smilingly  graceful  congratulations  to  the 
newly-betrothed  Iris,  the  more  strongly  tinged  with 
motherliness  from  her  consciousness  of  recent  success 
with  Ruthie,  and  even  endured  a  prolonged  wringing 
of  her  hand  from  Mr.  Garrett,  who  had  followed  his 
new  lodestar  to  Culmhayes. 

But  that  evening,  after  a  silence  more  fraught  with 
thought  fulness  even  than  usual,  and  in  consequence 
even  more  studiously  ignored  than  usual  by  Sir  Julian, 
she  said  to  him  abruptly : 

"  Have  you  any  idea  whether  Clarence  Isbister's  jilt 
knows  the  true  facts  of  the  case  about  Mark?  " 

Few  things  could  be  more  designedly  insulting  than 
Lady  Rossiter's  practice  of  invariably  alluding  to  Miss 
Marchrose  in  her  capacity  of  a  wrecker  of  hearts. 
Julian,  however,  replied  imperturbably : 

"  Do  you  mean  the  dipsomaniac?  " 

Lady  Rossiter  liked  the  term  no  better  than  her  hus- 
band liked  that  of  "  jilt,"  as  applied  to  Miss  Marchrose, 
and  as  she  would  not  be  guilty  of  making  use  of  it, 
she  merely  inclined  her  head  gravely. 

"  Because,  Julian,  if  that  woman  knows  into  what 


122  TENSION 

she  is  drifting,  then  it  will  be  a  case  of  Clarence  over 
again,  and  I  am  going  to  save  my  poor  Mark  from  her. 
And  if  she  doesn't  know,  I  am  going  to  tell  her,  what- 
ever it  costs  me  to  speak  about  it,  that  Mark  is  a 
married  man." 


X 

EDNA  had  no  immediate  opportunity  of  putting  her 
altruistic  designs  into  execution.  Miss  Marchrose  was 
not  easily  available,  and  Mark  Easter  was  reported  to 
be  less  frequently  at  the  College  in  consequence  of  the 
business  devolving  upon  him  in  connection  with  Iris' 
approaching  marriage. 

"  I  don't  know  why  Iris  is  in  such  a  hurry,  but 
they  are  going  to  be  married  at  the  beginning  of  the 
new  year,"  Lady  Rossiter  told  her  husband.  "  Mr. 
Garrett  is  going  to  stay  on  down  here." 

"What  an  ass!" 

Lady  Rossiter  always  looked  a  little  pained  at  a 
flippant  or  unkind  reference  to  anyone.  She  did  so 
now,  and  replied  gently: 

"  He  is  very  young  and  first  love  is  a  very  beautiful 
thing.  He  naturally  wants  to  stay  where  Iris  is." 

To  which  Sir  Julian  responded  with  an  even  greater 
intensity  of  conviction  in  his  voice  than  before: 

"JF/iaf  anass!" 

The  chief  manifestations  indulged  in  by  first  love, 
as  personified  by  Miss  Easter  and  Mr.  Garrett,  were 
perhaps  not  altogether  unaccountable  for  Sir  Julian's 
lack  of  enthusiasm. 

To  their  habitual  attitude  of  mutual  admiration 
they  now  added  an  apparently  inexhaustible  stock  of 
recondite  jests  and  allusions  utterly  unintelligible  to 
anybody  but  themselves. 

123 


i24  TENSION 

When  Lady  Rossiter  made  civil  enquiry  of  Mr. 
Garrett  as  to  the  length  of  time  he  could  afford  to 
remain  away  from  his  journalistic  work  in  London, 
he  scarcely  troubled  to  answer  her,  but  directed  a 
meaning  look  towards  Iris  and  said  d?rkly: 

"  Ah,  what  would  the  old  man  say  to  that?  It 
tallies  quite  oddly  with  that  letter  we  were  speaking 
of,  doesn't  it?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  Iris  obligingly.  "  You  know 
what  I  said  about  telepathy,  too,  Douglas." 

"What?"  Lady  Rossiter  not  unnaturally  wanted 
to  know. 

Iris'  reply  was  unsatisfactory  rather  than  infor- 
mative. 

"  Oh,  just  something  foolish  Douglas  and  I  had 
been  discussing.  He's  too  silly  sometimes,  you 
know." 

"  You  forget  our  old  friend  McTavish,"  retorted 
Douglas,  with  an  air  of  dry  repartee  that  would  have 
been  more  effective  had  anyone,  with  the  presumable 
exception  of  Iris,  been  in  possession  of  any  clue  as 
to  the  identity  of  McTavish. 

An  appreciative  laugh  from  Miss  Easter  rippled 
lightly  through  the  rather  embarrassed  silence. 

"  Oh,  poor  McTavish !  You're  always  flourishing 
that  creature  at  me!  " 

"  Who  or  what  is  McTavish?"  said  Mark,  in  a 
tone  which  voiced  the  inexplicable  but  growing  feeling 
of  umbrage  which  was  invading  the  minds  of  the 
assembly  in  regard  to  the  unknown. 

Douglas  and  Iris  exchanged  mirthful  looks  that 
seemed  charged  with  meaning. 

"  Oh,  McTavish!     He's  a   friend  of  Douglas  —  a 


TENSION  125 

sort  of  friend.  I  suppose  you  would  call  him  a  friend, 
Douglas?" 

"  Well,  hardly  my   friend,   perhaps/' 

"Well,  perhaps  hardly!" 

Iris  fell  into  transports  of  laughter. 

"  A  friend  of  a  friend  of  yours !  "  she  gasped. 

At  this  sudden  introduction  of  a  brand-new  element 
into  their  exchange  of  witticisms,  Mr.  Garrett's  ex- 
pression of  rather  satirical  humour  relaxed  also  into 
unrestrained  laughter. 

"  We  Scotch  lads  are  accused  of  having  no  sense  of 
fun,"  he  ejaculated,  in  accents  broken  with  mirth, 
"  but,  my  certie,  a  real  pawky  bit  of  Scotch  humour 
like  that  makes  a  perfect  child  of  me!  " 

It  was  not  often  that  Mr.  Garrett  relapsed  into 
dialect,  and  his  auditors  were  left  to  conclude  that 
extreme  wit  and  point  must  have  characterised  the 
reference  which  had  left  them  so  entirely  cold. 

"  Half  the  time  I  don't  know  what  they're  driving 
at,"  Mark  disconsolately  told  Lady  Rossiter,  but  he 
added  that  Iris  seemed  to  be  very  happy  and  that  Gar- 
rett was  fortunately  not  dependent  upon  his  profession. 
That  this  was  vaguely  literary  was  all  that  could  be 
gathered  by  those  not  in  Mr.  Garrett's  confidence,  but 
he  now  assumed  a  more  than  proprietary  tone  in  dis- 
cussing "  Why,  Ben!  A  Story  of  the  Sexes." 

"  I  can't  help  thinking,  Iris,  that  your  next  novel 
will  certainly  bear  an  impress  of  greater  maturity," 
Mr.  Garrett  academically  observed,  "  when  you  have 
entered  upon  the  second  phase  of  a  woman's  deeper 
experience." 

Iris  looked  as  though  she  were  undecided  whether 
to  blush  or  to  look  extremely  modern  and  detached. 


126  TENSION 

She  finally  produced  a  rather  unconvincingly  coy 
flutter  of  the  eyelids,  which  committed  her  to  nothing. 

The  second  phase  of  a  woman's  deeper  experience 
was  to  be  entered  upon  in  the  beginning  of  January, 
and  Iris  spent  a  great  deal  of  her  time  in  going  back- 
wards and  forwards  between  London  and  Devonshire. 
She  had  developed  an  enthusiasm  for  Miss  Marchrose, 
and  refused  to  give  up  her  course  of  typewriting  les- 
sons at  the  College,  where  her  presence  produced  the 
slight  stirring  of  interest  always  provoked  by  a  bride- 
elect. 

Even  Lady  Rossiter,  although  her  opinion  of  Miss 
Easter's  conquest  was  far  from  being  an  exalted  one, 
displayed  a  certain  deference  to  the  interesting  situa- 
tion by  driving  her  into  Culmouth  and  talking  all  the 
way,  in  a  very  candid  and  enlightening  manner,  of  the 
sacrifices  entailed  by  matrimony. 

At  the  College,  Lady  Rossiter,  as  though  struck  by 
a  sudden  thought,  said  that  she  would  come  upstairs 
with  Iris  and  seek  the  Lady  Superintendent. 

"  A  very  little  gratifies  them,  and  I  always  like  to 
keep  in  close  touch  with  the  staff.  I  must  arrange  for 
one  of  my  little  Sunday  tea-parties  next  week,  and  you 
must  come  and  help  me  entertain  them  all,  Iris." 

The  social  status,  ipso  facto,  conferred  upon  the 
wearer  of  an  engagement-  or  a  wedding-ring,  by  whom- 
soever bestowed,  is  curiously  typical  of  the  point  of 
view  of  certain  feminine  minds.  It  might  be  doubted 
whether  Miss  Iris  Easter,  unattached,  would  have  been 
considered  in  any  way  competent  to  help  the  chatelaine 
of  Culmhayes  in  her  entertainments. 

Iris,  however,  was  never  lacking  in  responsiveness. 

"  I  shall  adore  that,  dear  Lady  Rossiter.     I  think 


TENSION  127 

Miss  Marchrose  is  simply  too  sweet  for  words,  you 
know,  and  Mark  admires  her  awfully." 

Lady  Rossiter  was  only  too  well  aware  of  it,  but 
the  observation  served  to  strengthen  the  decision  that 
she  had  already  taken. 

"  This  is  my  last  lesson/'  Iris  said  sentimentally,  as 
they  went  up  the  stone  stairs.  "  I  shall  be  able  to 
help  Douglas,  of  course,  so  much  more,  now  that  I 
can  really  type.  Oh,  Mr.  Cooper,  good  morning !  " 

The  young  man  returned  cheerful  greetings. 
"  You'll  find  Miss  Marchrose  in  the  High  Speed,  if 
you're  looking  for  her.  I'm  on  my  way  downstairs." 

"  I  have  not  been  in  to  any  of  the  classrooms  for  a 
long  while,"  Lady  Rossiter  said  graciously.  "  What 
is  happening  in  the  High  Speed?  " 

"  A  test,  I  believe,  Lady  Rossiter.  Perhaps  you 
would  care  to  come  in  and  have  a  look.  A  stimulus," 
said  Cooper,  with  great  gallantry,  "  is  always  desirable. 
I  will  escort  you  if  I  may.  I'm  afraid  I  always  go 
upstairs  two  steps  at  a  time.  Sometimes  three." 

The  High  Speed  room  was  fairly  well  occupied. 
Half  a  dozen  young  girls,  between  the  ages  of  fifteen 
and  twenty,  a  couple  of  middle-aged  women,  a  preco- 
cious-looking little  boy  with  eyes  that  seemed  ready  to 
pop  out  of  his  head,  and  several  half-grown  youths,  sat 
at  the  wooden  desks.  Miss  Marchrose  stood  at  the  top 
of  the  room,  book  in  hand,  and  turned  as  Cooper 
opened  the  door. 

It  was  an  understood  thing  that  the  wife  of  the 
principal  director  had  the  right  of  entry  throughout 
the  College  precincts,  and  Miss  Marchrose,  whatever 
her  feelings,  had  no  alternative  but  to  direct  the  dis- 
posal of  chairs  next  to  her  own  rostrum. 


128  TENSION 

"  You  mustn't  be  nervous,"  Lady  Rossiter  said  to 
her  smilingly,  in  an  undertone  that  might  have  an- 
swered its  purpose  better  but  for  the  absolute  silence 
pervading  the  room.  "  I've  heard  these  tests  given 
before,  and  I  always  think  it's  nervous  work  for  the 
reader.  I  know  I  should  be  in  terror  myself  of  com- 
ing across  quite  unpronounceable  words.  But  you 
probably  know  the  book.  What  is  it?  " 

Miss  Marchrose  showed  her  the  text-book  in  silence, 
and  Lady  Rossiter,  though  she  smiled  and  nodded 
at  it,  did  no  more  than  glance  at  the  covers. 

'  This  is  the  speed  test,"  Miss  Marchrose  announced 
clearly.  "  Are  you  ready?  " 

Nobody  answered,  but  the  tension  in  the  room  was 
obvious,  and  the  little  boy  in  front  squared  his  shoul- 
ders, bending  his  head  forward  until  it  almost  touched 
his  note-book,  and  grasping  a  short  pencil  in  a  stubby 
hand  of  which  each  fingernail  was  quite  neatly  and 
symmetrically  outlined  in  black. 

"  In  the  United  Kingdom  there  are  over  500  rail- 
way companies,  the  lines  of  which  .  .  .  are  worked 
or  leased  by  about  forty  of  the  principal  companies. 
...  It  was  in  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth  century 
that  the  majority  of  the  great  undertakings  received 
parliamentary  sanction.  ..." 

Miss  Marchrose's  voice  was  quite  level  and  her  enun- 
ciation distinct.  She  varied  neither  her  intonation  nor 
the  rate  at  which  she  read  from  the  printed  page  be- 
fore her,  already  carefully  subdivided  into  phrases. 

Most  of  the  shorthand-writers  seemed  able  to  take 
down  the  test  —  a  shade  behind  the  reader,  however, 
so  that  their  pencils  were  never  altogether  off  the 
paper.  The  youths  in  the  back  of  the  room  displayed 


TENSION  129 

greater  facility,  sometimes  able  to  pause  with  the  end 
of  a  sentence  and  relax  an  aching  right  hand.  Only 
the  little  boy  dashed  down  his  dots  and  outlines  as  the 
words  left  Miss  Marchrose's  lips,  and  sat  with  pencil 
impudently  poised  in  the  air  during  the  regulated 
pause  separating  each  phrase.  Both  the  elder  women 
in  the  class,  who  might  have  been  of  the  less  superior 
type  of  hotel-clerk  or  assistant  manageress,  came  to 
early  grief. 

One  of  them  laid  her  pencil  down  outright  after  the 
first  five-and-twenty  words,  shaking  her  head,  and  look- 
ing resentfully  at  the  aggressively  proficient  child  in 
front  of  her ;  and  the  other  one,  though  scribbling  fran- 
tically, her  pencil  almost  piercing  the  paper,  with  a 
painfully  flushed  face  and  a  hand  that  shook  from 
strain,  was  quite  evidently  unable  to  keep  up  with 
the  dictation,  and  was,  moreover,  scribbling  down  a 
large  proportion  of  the  words  in  almost  illegible  long- 
hand. 

Iris  Easter  watched  the  class  with  very  evident  in- 
terest and  amusement,  and  smiled  at  the  precocious 
little  boy  until  she  had  extorted  from  him  in  return  a 
significantly  triumphant  grin. 

Lady  Rossiter  also  looked  at  the  class  with  that 
gravely  observant  gaze  that,  more  often  than  not,  de- 
notes complete  absorption  in  something  quite  else,  and 
thought  about  Miss  Marchrose. 

She  also  glanced  at  her  once  or  twice,  as  she  stood 
facing  the  room,  very  erect,  with  her  eyes  on  the  book, 
and  with  no  trace  of  shyness  or  nervousness  in  her 
bearing. 

Edna,  whose  very  decided  beauty  was  of  the  type 
that  seldom  or  never  varies,  could  on  this  occasion 


i3o  TENSION 

look  at  Miss  Marchrose  with  complete  satisfaction, 
and  even  ask  herself  whether  that  woman  could  pos- 
sibly be  a  day  under  thirty-five.  Neither  the  strong 
sunlight  of  a  frosty  January  morning  nor  the  contrast 
with  Iris  Easter  showed  her  to  advantage. 

Her  voice  stopped. 

There  was  a  general,  inarticulate  sound  of  relief 
throughout  the  room. 

"  When  you  have  transcribed  the  test  into  long- 
hand," said  Miss  Marchrose  serenely,  "  please  give  your 
papers  in  at  the  desk,  Classroom  I,  and  for  the  bene- 
fit of  those  who  have  not  done  a  speed  test  before  I 
may  add  that  the  students  must  not  assist  one  another 
in  the  transcriptions." 

The  class  gathered  up  note-books  and  pencils  and 
left  the  room,  with  much  scraping  of  benches  and 
shuffling  of  feet. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Marchrose,  I  do  think  you're  clever," 
was  the  remark  made  by  Iris,  rather  unnecessarily,  to 
Lady  Rossiter's  way  of  thinking. 

"  Will  they  all  pass  that  awful  test?  " 

"Oh,  no;  'getting  it  back/  as  they  call  it,  is  the 
part  they  seem  to  find  most  difficult.  Some  of  the  less 
intelligent  ones  seem  to  have  absolutely  no  sense  of  the 
meaning  of  words.  If  the  shorthand  outline  isn't 
clear,  they  guess  at  the  word  and  put  in  almost  any- 
thing, whether  it  makes  sense  or  not.  Of  course, 
that's  where  the  majority  of  stenographers  do  fail." 

"But  if  they  -make  those  little  scrabbles  clearly 
enough,  then  it's  all  right?  "  said  Miss  Easter. 

"  Yes,  that's  where  the  younger  ones  score.  The 
children  nearly  always  learn  much  faster  than  the  older 
ones  and  make  the  outlines  more  clearly,  and  then  they 


TENSION  131 

can  transcribe  easily  enough,  whether  they  understand 
the  meaning  of  what  they've  taken  down  or  not." 

"  Oh,  that  awful  little  boy  with  the  eyes ! " 

"  He'll  pass,"  said  Miss  Marchrose,  laughing. 
"  He's  a  dreadful  child." 

"  Iris,  dear,"  said  Lady  Rossiter  softly,  "  when  do 
you  have  your  lesson?  " 

Thus  obliquely  recalled  to  the  immediate  duties  of 
her  state  of  life,  Miss  Marchrose  conducted  her  pupil 
to  a  small  classroom  where  the  Remington  machine 
awaited  her,  and  in  front  of  which  Iris  took  her  seat 
with  obvious  and  immense  satisfaction  in  the  flashing 
of  her  engagement-ring  as  her  small  hands  moved 
backward  and  forward  on  the  keyboard. 

"If  you  don't  have  to  stay  with  her  while  she's 
practising,  I  should  like  to  have  a  look  at  your  own 
office,"  said  Lady  Rossiter  very  sweetly.  "  I  so  often 
wonder  if  you  don't  find  it  cold  in  this  weather." 

"  It  is  very  cold  indeed,  but  as  I  keep  the  window 
wide  open,  that's  my  own  fault,"  Miss  Marchrose  an- 
swered brusquely. 

But  she  led  the  way  into  her  room  and  prepared  to 
shut  the  window,  which  was,  as  she  had  said,  wide 
open. 

"  Oh,  but  don't !  There  can  never  be  too  much  of 
God's  own  fresh  air  to  please  me,"  Lady  Rossiter 
exclaimed,  at  the  same  time  fastening  the  high  collar 
of  her  fur  coat.  "  Besides,  I  know  you  get  so  little 
out-of-doors  you  must  want  all  the  sunshine  possible. 
Tell  me,  do  you  like  your  work  here?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  That's  rather  wonderful  of  you.  Mr.  Easter,  our 
agent,  you  know,  and  also  my  very  dear  friend,  tells 


132  TENSION 

me  that  you  work  so  well  and  conscientiously.  I  am 
sure  you  like  working  for  Mr.  Easter:  everyone  does." 

"  Yes." 

"  I'm  so  very,  very  glad  about  dear  little  Iris  and 
this  engagement.  Quite  suited  to  each  other  in  every 
sort  of  way.  After  all,  deep  can  only  call  to  deep  in 
very  exceptional  cases,  and  they  are  both  so  young 
and  happy.  Besides,  it  will  be  a  great  weight  off  her 
brother's  mind." 

Miss  Marchrose  did  not  even  return  her  former  un- 
brilliant  monosyllable,  and  Lady  Rossiter  was  obliged 
to  persevere. 

"  There  had  been  so  much  sadness  already,  there  — 
of  course,  he  never  talks  of  it,  except  to  me  some- 
times —  but  one  has  to  tread,  oh  so  lightly  and  deli- 
cately! It  is  all  past  now,  as  far  as  such  things  can 
be  past  when  there  are  constant  grievous  reminders, 
but  he  and  I  went  through  it  all  side  by  side  at  the 
time  —  shoulder  to  shoulder." 

Edna  paused,  and  looked  rather  resentfully  at  her 
unresponsive  auditor.  Evidently  the  warning  of 
which  she  stood  in  such  need  was  to  be  delivered  with- 
out any  assistance  from  herself. 

She  looked  full  at  the  Lady  Superintendent,  who 
gazed  back  at  her  with  calm  hostility  in  her  eyes. 

"  You  know  that  Mark  Easter  is  a  married  man?  " 
Lady  Rossiter  said  slowly  and  very  distinctly,  as 
though  determined,  which  indeed  she  was,  that  the 
fact  should  be  made  clear  beyond  the  possibility  of 
misunderstanding.  "  His  wife,  unfortunate  woman 
—  God  forbid  that  I  should  condemn  her !  —  is  in  a 
home  for  inebriates.  But  she  is  still  alive,  and  may 
live  for  years." 


TENSION  133 

Silence  ensued,  and  Lady  Rossiter  considerately 
averted  her  eyes.  She  wondered  for  a  moment 
whether  she  should  lay  her  hand  upon  the  other's 
shoulder  with  a  silent  pressure  of  sympathy,  but  de- 
cided that  to  do  so  would  be  a  tacit  assumption  of 
facts  better  unrecognised. 

Then,  for  she  was  of  acute  perceptions,  she  became 
subtly  aware  that  disturbance  was  in  the  air. 

Miss  Marchrose  had  whitened  quite  perceptibly,  and 
then  Lady  Rossiter  received  the  odd  impression  that 
some  weapon  of  vengeance  had  been  seized  upon  by 
her,  suspended  for  an  instant,  and  tacitly  rejected  as 
unworthy. 

The  impression  was  instantly  intensified  when  Miss 
Marchrose  spoke  at  last,  although  she  merely  said, 
"  I  have  to  speak  to  Mr.  Fuller.  Forgive  me  if  I  use 
the  telephone  for  one  moment." 

Hastily  and  unwisely,  Edna  tested  her  own  sudden 
suspicion. 

"Did  you  know  Mark  Easter's  story  already?" 

Miss  Marchrose  looked  down  as  though  from  an 
infinite  height,  her  mobile  face  purposely  supercilious. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  she,  her  voice  full  of  deliberate 
scorn. 

Edna  did  not  ask  from  whence  the  information  had 
emanated,  since  she  was  suddenly  aware,  with  all  the 
certainty  of  intuition,  that  Miss  Marchrose  had  un- 
doubtedly derived  her  knowledge  of  Mark  Easter's 
affairs  direct  from  himself. 


XI 

As  Lady  Rossiter  proceeded  on  her  way  downstairs, 
leaving  Iris  to  the  completion  of  her  lesson,  she  was 
waylaid  by  young  Cooper. 

"  I've  been  waiting  for  you,  in  the  hope  that  you 
would  spare  me  one  moment,  Lady  Rossiter.  There 
was  a  little  matter  about  which  the  staff  wanted  me  to 
consult  you." 

Such  a  reference  appealed  to  Edna  at  any  time,  and 
came  as  balm  to  the  present  state  of  her  spirit,  at  the 
moment  so  seriously  discomposed  that  she  had  been 
obliged  to  repeat  to  herself  more  than  once,  as  she  went 
downstairs : 

"  Still  lovingly  to  bear  a  fool, 
Nor  speak  till  wrath  has  time  to  cool, 
And  thus  live  out  my  golden  rule." 

"  I  always  have  time  for  the  business  of  the 
College,  as  you  know,"  she  responded  graciously. 
"What  is  it?" 

"  Why,  the  staff  thought  —  the  idea,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  originated  with  me,  and  they  have  all  taken  it  up 
quite  enthusiastically  —  we  thought  that  we  should 
very  much  like,  in  view  of  our  long  connection  with 
Mr.  Mark  Easter,  to  make  a  little  presentation  to  Miss 
Iris  Easter,  in  honour  of  her  wedding.  Just  a  small 
affair,  you  know  —  subscribed  for  by  the  staff  of  the 
College." 

134 


TENSION  135 

"But  how  charming  of  you  all!  Only  —  no  one 
must  be  put  to  serious  expense.  I  am  sure  Miss 
Easter  would  be  dreadfully  distressed  if  that  hap- 
pened." 

Cooper  looked  rather  offended. 

"  Certainly  not,  Lady  Rossiter.  I  think  you  may 
rely  upon  my  judgment  not  to  make  excessive  demands. 
But,  of  course,  if  you  think  anyone  else  had  better  col- 
lect the  money,  I  shall  resign  the  job  into  other  hands 
with  the  very  greatest  pleasure." 

Edna  hastily  uttered  the  necessary  disclaimers. 

"  It  was  suggested,"  said  Cooper,  still  with  reserve 
in  his  voice,  "  that  you  would  be  so  very  kind  as  to  assist 
at  the  presentation,  which  might  perhaps  be  made  the 
occasion  for  some  small  gathering  such  as  we  had  last 
year  at  Christmas.  I  find  that  the  members  of  the 
staff  are  quite  anxious  for  it." 

Lady  Rossiter  remembered,  without  much  enthu- 
siasm, a  New  Year  party  at  which  the  staff  of  the  Com- 
mercial and  Technical  College  had  entertained  their 
directors,  pupils  and  acquaintances,  in  a  large  class- 
room decorated  with  bunting  for  the  occasion. 

"  That  is  a  most  excellent  idea/'  she  said  slowly, 
partly  because  it  sounded  sympathetic  and  partly  in 
order  to  gain  time.  "  But  perhaps  Miss  Easter  might 
feel  rather  shy  in  the  presence  of  so  many  people  who 
would  be  strange  to  her.  What  about  a  little  infor- 
mal tea-party?  But,  of  course,  all  that  can  be  settled 
later.  What  are  you  thinking  of  giving  her?  " 

"  Nothing  has  been  actually  decided  upon,  though  / 
should  suggest  some  little  thing  in  silver.  The  ladies 
always  like  silver.  I  remember  selecting  a  wedding- 
present  for  a  lady  friend,"  said  Cooper,  looking  slightly 


136  TENSION 

sentimental,  "  that  proved  highly  acceptable.  A  silver 
serviette-ring  it  was,  with  her  initials  —  her  new  in- 
itials —  engraved  upon  it." 

"  I'm  sure  it  was  delightful,  and  Miss  Easter  is 
certain  to  like  anything  that  you  all  choose." 

"  We  all  know  her,  and  she's  been  here  quite  a  lot 
lately,  and  of  course  Mr.  Mark  Easter  does  a  great 
deal  for  the  staff,  and  we're  all  very  fond  of  him," 
added  Cooper,  with  a  sudden  outburst  of  naturalness. 

Edna,  in  common  with  quite  a  number  of  other  peo- 
ple, always  underwent,  more  or  less  unconsciously,  a 
slight  stirring  of  resentment  at  any  spontaneous 
tribute  to  someone  else's  popularity. 

It  was  perhaps  this  which  moved  her  to  a  rather 
thin  and  repressive  smile. 

"  It  will  gratify  Mr.  Easter  very  much  indeed,  I 
know.  And  after  all,  it's  the  thought  that  is  of  real 
value  —  not  the  offering.  Do  tell  the  staff  how  very 
much  I  hope  they  will  let  me  hear  any  further  ideas." 

"  Thanks  very  much,  Lady  Rossiter,"  said  Cooper, 
rather  stiffly. 

Edna,  dissatisfied,  reflected  for  a  moment. 

"  Couldn't  you  all  come  out  to  Culmhayes  and  talk 
it  over  with  me?"  she  enquired,  as  by  an  inspiration. 
"  We  might  form  a  little  committee,  and  go  into  ways 
and  means,  and  perhaps  I  could  find  out  some  trifle  that 
would  please  Miss  Easter,  and  let  you  know.  How 
would  that  be?" 

"  It's  very  kind  of  you.  I  myself  always  prefer  to 
have  these  things  on  a  business  footing,"  said  Cooper, 
looking  cheered.  "  I  am  essentially  a  business  man." 

"Then  what  about  Sunday  afternoon?  Perhaps 
you  and  Miss  Farmer  —  and  what  about  Mr.  Fuller?  " 


TENSION  137 

If  young  Cooper  could  have  answered  all  too  cer- 
tainly, "  what  about  Fuller,"  he  refrained  from  any 
such  disastrous  candour.  But  he  gave  his  grateful 
pledge  of  coming  to  Culmhayes  on  the  following  Sun- 
day with  as  many  of  the  staff  as  were  considered 
necessary  to  form  a  small  committee.  Cooper  was 
insistent  upon  the  necessity  for  such. 

"  You  notice  that  I  like  things  done  in  order?  "  said 
he. 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  murmured  Edna.  "  Here  is  Miss 
Easter  coming  downstairs,  so  I  suppose  the  lesson  is 
over,  and  we  must  be  going.  Good-bye,  Mr.  Cooper 
-I  shan't  forget." 

"  Let  me  see  you  down.  Hark ! "  said  Cooper, 
with  an  expression  of  animated  interest. 

Iris  and  Lady  Rossiter  both  paused. 

"Did  you  hear  my  knee-joint  crack  just  now? 
That  was  my  knee.  I  put  it  out  at  football,  months 
ago,  and  since  then  it  cracks,  like  that." 

And  with  this  addition  to  the  sum  total  of  their  gen- 
eral information,  Edna  and  Miss  Easter  drove  away 
from  the  College. 

"  Poor  young  man !  "  said  Lady  Rossiter  leniently. 

"  Oh,  the  dear  College !  I  wish  my  lessons  hadn't 
come  to  an  end,  but  of  course  I  shan't  have  time  now. 
Miss  Marchrose  is  going  to  come  and  stay  with  us, 
later  on  —  when 

"  When  you're  married?  " 

Iris  put  her  head  on  one  side. 

"  It  is  nice  and  generous  of  you  to  have  taken  a 
fancy  to  poor  Miss  Marchrose,"  said  Lady  Rossiter, 
who  seldom  divested  the  Lady  Superintendent  of  the 
adjective.  "  But  after  all,  there  are  one  or  two  things 


138  TENSION 

to  be  considered.  Your  husband  may  not  take  a  very 
great  fancy  to  her." 

Edna's  warning  would  have  tallied  much  more  with 
her  very  real  distrust  of  the  proposed  scheme  had 
she  omitted  the  word  "  not "  in  the  last  sentence. 

Iris,  however,  answered  confidently,  "  Oh,  but 
Douglas  will  always  like  my  friends,  and  I  shall  always 
like  his.  We  have  every  single  thing  in  common, 
you  know." 

Leaving  Iris  to  her  delusion,  that  wreathed  her 
pretty,  silly  little  face  in  dreamy  smiles,  Lady  Rossi- 
ter  leant  back  and  indulged  in  reflections  of  her  own. 
She  was  more  tired  than  was  usual  with  her,  and  her 
habitual  serenity  of  mind  was  invaded  by  a  certain  dis- 
content of  which  she  did  not  seek  to  analyse  the  cause. 

She  looked  at  the  hoar-frost,  sparkling  on  the 
hedges,  and  at  the  chill  blue  of  the  sky,  and  perfunc- 
torily told  herself,  as  often  before,  "  God's  in  His 
Heaven  —  all's  right  with  the  world  " ;  recalled,  in  a 
vague  and  disjointed  manner,  fragments  of  R.  L, 
Stevenson  that  she  had  often  thought  to  be  peculiarly 
applicable  to  herself,  and  remembered  that  two  of  her 
particular  friends  were  a  humble  little  dressmaker  and 
a  quaint  old  seafarer;  she  humorously  adjured  her- 
self to  "  t'ink  ob  de  blessings^  children,  t'ink  ob  de 
blessings."  But  all  was  of  no  avail.  She  felt  sad- 
dened, inexplicably  depressed. 

For  many  years  Edna  Rossiter  had  believed  that 
her  strong  suit,  so  to  speak,  was  Love.  She  "  gave 
out." 

As  a  young  girl,  she  had  perhaps  fancied,  as  young 
girls  are  prone  to  fancy,  that  only  as  the  heroine  of 
a  grande  passion  could  she  fulfil  herself.  Her  first 


TENSION  139 

love  had  disappointed  her.  A  cheerful,  beauty-loving 
young  architect,  he  had  failed  to  return  adequate  replies 
to  the  letters,  pulsating  with  quotations  from  Laurence 
Hope,  in  which  Edna  had  poured  forth  her  soul  dur- 
ing a  temporary  absence. 

She  began  to  doubt,  to  read  the  verses  of  Arthur 
Symons,  and  to  think  that  only  by  suffering  could  she 
find  herself.  Even  the  breaking-off  of  her  engage- 
ment, however,  failed  immediately  to  terminate  the 
quest  successfully. 

"  I  have  tried  not  to  be  bitter, "  was  the  keynote  of 
Edna's  twenties. 

By  the  time  she  had  reached  the  stage  of  quoting: 

"How  many  loved  your  moments  of  glad  grace 
And  loved  your  beauty  with  love  false  or  true, 
But  one  man  loved  the  pilgrim  soul  in  you, 
And  loved  the  sorrows  in  your  changing  face " 

—  lines  which  the  majority  of  women  read  with  such 
a  singular  sense  of  applicability  to  their  own  needs  — 
Edna  had  met  Sir  Julian  Rossiter. 

She  was  a  great  deal  more  beautiful  at  nine-and- 
twenty  than  at  nineteen,  and  she  had,  moreover,  learnt 
to  smile.  Tragedy,  in  which  she  really  excelled,  had 
proved  strangely  unprovocative  of  interest  in  anyone 
but  herself,  and  she  had  therefore  been  obliged  to 
cultivate  the  large,  grave  serenity ^that  forgets  itself  in 
the  thought  of  others. 

It  was  not  this,  however,  which  had  caused  Sir 
Julian  to  ask  her  to  marry  him. 

Edna  disliked  the  memory  of  the  scene  that  had  led 
to  his  proposal,  although  time  and  her  own  industry 
had  draped  the  situation  with  much  that  it  had  lacked 


TENSION 

at  the  moment.  She  had  met  him  on  board  ship,  and 
her  mother,  a  slightly  vulgar  woman  who  had  always 
rather  disliked  the  only  one  of  her  daughters  whom 
she  had  not  married  off  in  early  girlhood,  had  speedily 
discovered  that  the  owner  of  Culmhayes  was  in  need 
of  a  wife.  Edna,  who  had  so  long  and  so  vainly  vis- 
ualised herself  as  the  ideal  Helo'ise  to  an  as  yet-un  found 
Abelard,  had  had  time  to  become  heartily  sick  of 
such  barren  dreams,  and  was  by  now  prepared  to  re- 
linquish them  in  favour  of  mere  emancipation  from 
spinsterhood  and  a  restricted  life. 

For  three  of  the  endless  days  of  a  sea-voyage  Sir 
Julian  had  appeared  to  be  attracted  by  her,  and  on 
the  fourth  he  had  devoted  himself  to  a  blue-eyed 
widow,  travelling  second-class.  The  voyage  was 
nearly  over  before  the  first-class  passengers  saw  him 
again  in  their  midst.  Edna  could  remember  still  the 
evening  before  Dover  was  reached,  when  her  mother, 
exasperated,  had  uttered  the  short,  sudden  gibe  that  had 
put  into  words  the  humiliating  truth  never  before 
spoken  between  them. 

She  remembered  still  the  despairing  resentment  that 
had  seized  upon  her,  at  her  realisation  that  such  taunts, 
once  uttered,  may  speedily  become  common,  between 
people  in  constant  proximity  and  without  mutual  re- 
spect. 

Her  rare  tears  had  shaken  her,  and  it  was  Sir 
Julian  who  had  found  her,  crying  in  a  solitary  corner 
of  the  deck.  Edna  could  remember  —  though  never 
in  her  life  did  she  willingly  recall  —  that  anger  and 
misery  together  had  made  her  give  him,  in  reply  to 
his  urgent  enquiry,  something  that  very  nearly  ap- 


TENSION  141 

preached  to  the  raw,  crude  truth.  And  that  night 
she  had  said  to  herself: 

"  Thank  Heaven,  I  shall  never  see  him  again !  " 

The  next  morning  he  had  asked  her  to  marry  him, 
making  no  protestations  of  passion  such  as  she  had 
once  thought  herself  fated  to  evoke,  but  suggesting 
a  mutual  companionship,  likely  to  prove  of  solace-  to 
both,  and  to  release  her  from  a  situation  which  had 
become  intolerable  to  her. 

Julian's  candour  had  humiliated  her  bitterly,  for 
her  one  moment  of  envisaging  the  truth  in  all  its  bit- 
terness had  passed  from  her. 

But  she  had  accepted  him. 

She  would  not  have  believed  it,  had  she  been  told 
that  the  evening  of  that  self -betrayal,  of  which  she 
thrust  the  memory  away  thenceforward,  had  witnessed 
the  truest,  most  intimate  relationship  in  which  she  and 
her  husband  were  destined  ever  to  stand  towards  one 
another. 

The  prosperous  chatelaine  of  Culmhayes  had  had 
many  years  in  which  to  forget  the  mortifications  and 
disappointments  of  her  pre-marriage  days.  She  ruled 
an  admirable  household  admirably,  she  "  gave  out," 
she  discovered  Nature,  and  she  opposed  a  perpetual 
exhalation  of  large-hearted  tolerance  to  the  small 
shafts  of  rather  indifferent  satire  that  more  and  more 
formed  the  basis  of  Sir  Julian's  conjugal  intercourse. 

Edna  indulged  in  no  bitterness  of  resentment  against 
her  husband,  except  on  the  rare  occasions  when  she, 
always  unwillingly,  remembered  that  chivalry  and  not 
love  had  prompted  his  offer  of  marriage  to  her.  His 
frequent  captiousness,  his  small  verbal  incivilities,  his 


142  TENSION 

absence  of  any  sympathy  with  her  ideals,  even  his 
systematic  reticence  as  to  his  personal  thoughts  and 
feelings,  roused  nothing  in  her  beyond  an  appreciation 
of  the  opportunity  that  they  provided  for  breadths  of 
sunny-hearted  charity.  She  was  not  an  unhappy 
woman,  and  never  made  the  mistake  of  calling  her- 
self one.  Even  the  absence  of  children  she  regretted 
more  for  their  own  sakes  than  for  hers,  since  she  be- 
lieved that  her  maternal  instinct  had  become  diverted 
into  more  universal  and  more  spacious  channels  than 
could  have  been  the  case  had  it  been  exercised  solely 
upon  sons  or  daughters  of  her  own. 

That  Sir  Julian  was  "  difficult "  she  never  disguised 
from  herself.  He  had,  in  fact,  become  rather  more 
"  difficult "  year  by  year,  and  Edna  had  long  since 
given  up  her  early  attempts  to  probe  into  his  point  of 
view.  She  came  to  the  conclusion  that  Julian  was  in- 
articulate because  he  was  unenlightened,  that  he  liked 
"  Jorrocks,"  and  that  he  was  permanently  discontented 
because  he  had  not  enough  to  do  and  refused  to  en- 
visage the  deeper  issues  of  life. 

She  reflected  complacently  sometimes  that  they  had 
never  had  a  quarrel  —  and  remained  unaware  that  the 
fact  admirably  measured  the  extent  of  their  estrange- 
ment. 

Lady  Rossiter  sighed  at  the  end  of  her  retrospect. 

"Don't  you  like  Miss  Marchrose?"  enquired  Iris 
quite  suddenly. 

"But  I  wasn't  thinking  about  her!  What  makes 
you  ask?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Iris  vaguely.  "  I've  some- 
times thought  you  didn't  like  her  awfully  much." 

Lady  Rossiter  reflected  before  making  any  reply. 


TENSION  143 

She  held  the  theory  that  the  expression  of  an  opinion 
should  always  be  a  well-considered  matter,  and  was 
apt  to  say  that  words  were  like  thistledown  and  might 
blow  to  unsuspected  distances  and  in  unforeseen  di- 
rections. 

There  was,  however,  nothing  of  the  airy  quality  of 
thistledown  in  her  deliberately  given  answer. 

"  Miss  Marchrose  does  not  strike  me  as  attractive," 
she  said  carefully,  "  but  a  young  woman  earning  her 
own  living  is  hardly  to  be  judged  by  the  rules  that  we 
should  apply  to  one  of  nous  aittres.  I  never  care  to 
say  that  I  dislike  anyone  —  it  seems  to  me  so  trivial, 
so  short-sighted,  to  dislike  the  little  that  one  can  know 
of  any  fellow-creature.  The  Divine  Spark  is  always 
lurking  somewhere  —  although  I  admit  that  some- 
times, in  the  less  advanced,  it  is  difficult  really  to  hold 
fast  to  that  belief." 

"  Oh,  but  you  always  do !  No  one  is  like  you,"  said 
Miss  Easter,  in  all  good  faith.  "  I  don't  believe  I've 
ever  heard  you  say  an  unkind  word  of  anybody." 

Lady  Rossiter  smiled. 

"  The  great  thing,"  she  observed  gently,  "  is  never 
to  say  anything,  unless  one  can  say  something  kind. 
And  it  is  very  strange,  Iris  dear,  how  one  can  nearly 
always  find  something  that  is  nice  and  yet  true,  to 
say  of  everyone." 

"  You  can,  I'm  sure." 

Iris  was  always  complaisant,  besides  being  young 
and  happy  and  therefore  disposed  to  be  uncritical,  and 
she  had  long  entertained  a  simple  and  quite  unreason- 
ing admiration  for  Lady  Rossiter. 

Her  enthusiasm  for  Miss  Marchrose  was  a  recent 
impulse  only,  and  did  not  prevent  her  from  a  fur- 


144  TENSION 

ther  endeavour  to  obtain  light  upon  Lady  Rossiter' s 
views. 

"  She's  quite  too  nice  to  me,  always,  and  I  do  think 
she  must  have  been  pretty.  In  fact,  she  is  now,  in  a 
sort  of  way." 

"  Quite/'  agreed  Lady  Rossiter  serenely. 

"  Sometimes  I  wonder  if  she  has  foreign  blood  in 
her." 

"Why?" 

"  I'm  not  sure,"  said  Miss  Easter  impressively,  "  that 
I  should  quite,  absolutely,  always  trust  her." 

Lady  Rossiter 's  common-sense  did  not  altogether 
admit  of  her  accepting  so  remarkable  a  reason  for  as- 
suming untrustworthiness,  but  she  was  entirely  in  ac- 
cord with  the  result  of  Miss  Easter's  logic,  however  de- 
fective the  means  by  which  that  result  was  obtained. 

"  It's  curious  that  you  should  say  that,"  she  re- 
marked slowly.  "  Instinct  is  a  strange  thing,  Iris." 

"Yes,  isn't  it?  They  always  say  a  woman's  in- 
stinct is  never  wrong,"  glibly  returned  Miss  Easter. 
"  But  I  don't  mean  anything  unkind  about  Miss  March- 
rose,  truly  I  don't;  there's  only  one  thing  I  don't  like 
about  her." 

Lady  Rossiter  made  a  sound  expressive  of  enquiry. 

"  I  never  can  bear  people  who  try  to  be  sarcastic," 
murmured  Iris,  voicing  unaware  the  fundamental  dis- 
trust which  governs  the  whole  of  the  British  middle 
classes. 

"  Satire  is  a  very  cheap,  unworthy  weapon,"  said 
Lady  Rossiter,  not  without  inward  reminiscences  of 
Sir  Julian  as  she  spoke.  "  But  to  be  quite  fair,  I  don't 
think  I've  ever  heard  poor  Miss  Marchrose  try  to  be 
satirical  or  anything  of  that  sort.  She's  generally 


TENSION  145 

rather  tongue-tied  and  awkward  when  I'm  there.  You 
see,  Iris,  I'm  afraid  she  knows  that  I  have  heard  a 
good  deal  about  her,  one  way  and  another." 

Lady  Rossiter  hesitated,  remembered  Mark,  and  de- 
cided to  go  on. 

"  I  am  afraid  there  is  not  much  doubt  that  Miss 
Marchrose  once  did  a  very,  very  heartless  action,  and 
I  am  afraid  that  heartlessness  and  meanness  are  only 
too  terribly  apt  to  go  together.  There  is  something 
about  the  hard  lines  of  her  mouth  —  but  after  all,  how 
can  I  cast  the  first  stone?  I  had  rather  let  the  facts 
speak  for  themselves." 

Followed  the  narrative  of  Captain  Isbister,  his  en- 
gagement to  a  girl  not  of  his  own  class,  his  accident, 
his  offer  to  release  the  girl,  and  her  prompt  acceptance 
of  it,  culminating  in  the  unbridled  display  of  anguish 
witnessed  in  the  nursing-home  by  Captain  Isbister's  at- 
tendant, which  climax  was  received  by  Iris  far  other- 
wise than  it  had  once  been  received  by  Sir  Julian  Ros- 
siter. 

"  Oh,  oh,  poor  dear  thing !  How  too  terrible !  I 
am  sure  Douglas  would  go  on  exactly  like  that  if  I  ever 
threw  him  over.  But  of  course  I  never  could.  It's 
the  most  dreadful  thing  I  ever  heard  of  —  how  any- 
one could  be  so  heartless !  " 

"  How  indeed !  "  sadly  ejaculated  Lady  Rossiter. 
"  And  you  know,  Iris,  by  some  miracle  of  science,  he 
actually  did  recover,  and  can  walk  as  well  as  you  or  I. 
So  if  she  had  been  steadfast,  they  would  have  been 
married  by  this  time,  and  she  would  have  been  in  a 
very  different  position  now." 

"  It's  like  a  book,"  said  Iris,  awe-stricken.  "  But 
she  couldn't  have  cared  for  him  really." 


146  TENSION 

"  Indeed,  no !  I  thank  God  from  the  bottom  of  my 
heart  that  poor  Clarence  found  out  in  time  what  a  mis- 
take he  had  made.  He  was  younger  than  she,  poor 
boy,  and  it  was  all  thoroughly  unsuitable.  He  has 
found  his  ideal  since  then." 

Iris  looked  a  shade  disappointed. 

"  Ah,  my  dear,  you  are  thinking  that  nothing  is  like 
first  love  —  and  in  a  way  it's  true.  But  there's  an- 
other kind  of  love,  too,  that  comes  later,  when  one  has 
outgrown  the  personal  part  of  it  all  —  the  divine  sel- 
fishness that  is  so  sweet  and  natural  and  inevitable  in 
youth.  And  that  is  the  love,  the  great  universal  ten- 
derness, that  comes  to  one  later  on,  and  that  seeks  a 
widening  circle,  and  a  bigger  outlet,  in  order  to  spend 
itself  on  others.  But  you  know  nothing  about  that 
yet,  childie  dear.  How  should  you,  indeed?  " 

Very  few  people  like  to  be  told  that  there  is  anything 
in  the  gamut  of  the  emotions  of  which  they  know  noth- 
ing, and  Iris  looked  with  rather  an  unresponsive  eye  at 
her  dear  Lady  Rossiter. 

"  After  all,"  said  that  lady,  rendering  her  usual  smil- 
ing acknowledgment  to  the  Deity,  "  after  all,  there  are 
many  compensations  for  growing  old,  in  God's  world." 

The  aphorism  admitted  not  at  all  of  contradiction, 
and  hardly  of  agreement,  and  Iris  accordingly  relapsed 
into  silence. 

"  I  will  let  you  know  about  my  little  tea-party  for 
the  staff,"  was  Lady  Rossiter's  last  remark.  '  They 
will  like  to  see  your  bright  face  and  pretty  frock,  dear. 
Their  lives  are  very  drab." 

The  bright  face  and  pretty  frock  of  Iris  Easter,  how- 
ever, were  not  allowed  to  shed  illumination  upon  the 
drab  lives  of  Lady  Rossiter's  guests  on  Sunday  until 


TENSION  147 

the  wedding-present  question  had  been  inadequately 
discussed. 

Mr.  Cooper  was  mounted  upon  verbal  stilts,  and 
adorned  his  discourse  with  many  tags  of  commercial 
phraseology ;  Miss  Farmer  would  only  say  that  she  was 
sure  Miss  Easter  would  be  pleased  whatever  they 
settled;  and  Miss  Sandiloe  giggled  and  looked  mean- 
ingly at  Mr.  Cooper.  Needless  to  say,  Mr.  Fairfax 
Fuller  put  in  no  appearance. 

Edna  was  by  turns  kindly,  practical,  helpful  and 
sympathetic,  but  still  no  decision  could  be  reached. 

"  What  is  the  amount  subscribed  ?  " 

"  Just  over  two  pounds,  so  far,  but  there  are  a  few 
more  responses  to  come  in." 

"  It  isn't  the  amount,  Lady  Rossiter,  is  it?  "  wearily 
enquired  Miss  Farmer. 

"  Certainly  not.     The  thought  is  everything." 

It  almost  appeared  as  though  the  thought  was  indeed 
to  be  everything. 

"  Have  you  decided  what  you  wish  to  give  ?  " 

The  three  members  of  the  staff  exchanged  glances. 

"  So  many  people  thought  of  a  pair  of  silver  vases." 

"  Or  a  little  travelling-clock,  Lady  Rossiter." 

"  A  good  many  voted  for  a  small  paper-knife,  as 
being  individual,  like,"  said  Cooper. 

"  Charming,"  warmly  said  Lady  Rossiter,  appearing 
to  address  all  her  three  vis-a-vis  at  once. 

The  discussion  continued  at  a  similar  rate  of  progress 
for  the  remainder  of  the  afternoon. 

Edna  began  to  feel  considerably  taxed  at  the  in- 
ordinate extent  to  which  she  was  required  to  "  give 
out,"  in  her  own  favourite  phrase.  There  were  limits 
to  the  life-giving  forces  that  could  be  radiated  for  the 


148  TENSION 

benefit  of  three  discursive  and  unbusinesslike  fellow- 
creatures  on  a  cold  afternoon  in  winter.  True  to  her 
principles,  she  reflected,  with  a  humorousness  that  re- 
mained strictly  tender,  that  she  must  definitely  take  the 
responsibility  for  which  they  all  appeared  so  inadequate 
onto  her  own  shoulders. 

She  prepared  to  intimate  her  decision  by  a  leading 
question. 

"  And  about  the  actual  presentation  ?  Perhaps  it 
would  prevent  little  jealousies,  little  follies  of  that  sort 
—  after  all,  human  nature  is  human  nature  —  if  it 
were  presented  by  someone  not  quite  of  the  College 
personnel?  Of  course,  in  the  name  of  you  all,  by 
someone  who  would  be  able  to  make  a  little  speech. 
Oh,  nothing  formal,  of  course,  only  a  few  words,  but 
one  wants  those  to  be  the  right  words !  I  don't  know 
if " 

She  paused. 

"  It  was  proposed,"  said  Cooper  — "  and  I  may  add 
carried  unanimously  —  that  the  presentation  and  a  few 
words  of  good  wishes  from  us  all " 

" Being  a  good  speaker,"  interpolated  Miss 

Sandiloe. 

" And  in  an  official  position,  so  to  speak  —  and 

a  friend  of  Miss  Easter's,"  said  Miss  Farmer,  also  in 
parentheses. 

Cooper  shot  a  repressive  glance  left  and  right.  "  I 
am  just  telling  Lady  Rossiter.  The  obvious  person, 
of  course,  Lady  Rossiter,  has  been  approached.  Miss 
Marchrose  has  kindly  agreed  to  make  the  presentation 
on  behalf  of  the  staff." 


XII 

IT  was  left  to  Sir  Julian,  as  not  infrequently  hap- 
pened, to  look  upon  the  varied  assortment  of  flotsam 
and  jetsam  thrown  up  by  the  tide  of  Lady  Rossiter's 
eloquence. 

Whilst  Edna  sat  indoors,  rather  limply  endeavouring 
to  maintain  a  high  level  of  sympathetic  brightness 
round  the  exhausted  subject  of  Miss  Easter's  projected 
wedding-present,  Julian,  having  ascertained  the  pres- 
ence of  his  three  guests  indoors,  hastily  walked  out  of 
the  house. 

He  sought  his  habitual  refuge  —  the  long,  deserted 
stretch  of  shore  skirted  by  a  pebbly  ridge,  locally  known 
as  the  sea-wall. 

There  he  found  Miss  Marchrose. 

If  Julian  had  counted  upon  finding  the  foam-flecked, 
windy  spot  in  its  usual  state  of  solitude,  he  gave  no 
sign  of  being  disconcerted. 

They  exchanged  greetings  and  prepared  to  walk  the 
mile  length  of  the  sea-wall  together.  In  spite  of  the 
strength  of  the  salt  wind  blowing  full  against  them,  the 
blue  knitted  cap  that  she  wore  needed  no  restraining 
hand,  and  she  was  restfully  free  from  fluttering  ends 
and  tags  of  garments. 

With  great  abruptness  she  began  to  speak  as  they 
walked. 

"  I  knew  that  you  were  related  to  the  Isbisters,  of 
course.  If  you  remember,  Lady  Rossiter  said  some- 

149 


150  TENSION 

thing  about  them  that  night  that  we  had  dinner  to- 
gether, and  I  thought  at  the  time " 

She  broke  off,  and  Julian,  conscious  of  extreme  cu- 
riosity as  to  the  reason  why  she  had  suddenly  intro- 
duced so  admittedly  scabreux  a  topic,  enquired  after  a 
moment : 

"What  did  you  think  at  the  time?" 

"  I  thought  Lady  Rossiter  wished  me  to  understand 
that  she  knew  of  the  relationship  in  which  I  once  stood 
to  Captain  Isbister." 

For  the  life  of  him,  Julian  could  think  of  no  re- 
joinder. 

"  I  know  that  things  of  that  kind  always  are  known, 
and  the  people  I've  been  thrown  with,  sooner  or  later, 
always  turned  out  to  have  heard  the  story.  Or  if  they 
hadn't,"  said  Miss  Marchrose  in  a  voice  of  calm  de- 
spair, "  someone  took  the  trouble  to  tell  them." 

"  Officiousness  is  the  crying  sin  of  the  age,"  Julian 
observed  sententiously. 

"  It  seems  to  me  a  purely  individual  matter.  It 
can't  concern  anyone  else  —  not  even  the  people  who 
employ  me." 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  Did  you  know?     But  of  course  you  did." 

"  I  knew  that  Clarence  Isbister  had  been  engaged  to 
someone  of  your  name,  and  that  the  engagement  had 
been  broken  off  after  his  accident." 

"  I  broke  it  off,"  she  said  defiantly. 

"  So  one  heard," 

"  Everyone  has  heard  that,"  said  Miss  Marchrose. 
"  Everyone  has  heard  that  when  he  was  told  that  he 
must  be  an  invalid  and  helpless  for  the  rest  of  his  life 
he  offered  to  release  me  from  the  engagement  —  and 


TENSION  151 

I  said  yes.  And  that  he  was  very  much  upset  about 
it,  just  at  the  time." 

Julian  stifled  a  fleeting  recollection  of  the  well-worn 
legend  accompanying  the  story  of  Captain  Isbister's 
betrayal. 

"Of  course,  it  is  inevitable  that  his  relations  should 
have  heard  about  it,  I  suppose,"  Miss  Marchrose 
said. 

Julian  felt  inclined  to  reply,  "  Clarence  Isbister  is  an 
ass,  and  not  worth  worrying  about,"  and  then  decided 
that  that  would  not  do,  and  awaited  her  next  words  in 
silence.  He  perceived  that  some  unusual  emotion  had 
strung  her  to  the  pitch  of  excitement  at  which  self- 
contained  people  become  reckless,  and  emotional  ones 
untruthful.  Having  already  formed  the  conclusion 
that  Miss  Marchrose  belonged  to  the  former  class,  he 
listened  with  the  greater  interest. 

Her  next  words  gave  him  a  clue  to  the  vexation  that 
vibrated  in  her  tones. 

"  I  was  angry,  I'm  afraid,  this  morning,  when  Miss 
Easter  actually  began  about  it." 

"  Extremely  impertinent  of  her.  I  hope  you  told 
her  so." 

"  She  is  very  good-natured,"  said  Miss  Marchrose  re- 
morsefully. "  She  has  always  gone  out  of  her  way  to 
be  nice  to  me,  and  when  I  began  to  be  angry  with  her 
she  only  said,  '  Oh,  I'm  so  dreadfully  sorry ;  I  should 
never  tell  a  soul  except  Douglas,  you  know,  so  you 
needn't  mind  my  knowing  about  it.'  ' 

At  her  faint  mimicry  of  Iris'  affected  little  pipe  they 
both  laughed. 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,  poor  little  thing,  she  only 
wanted  me  to  contradict  the  version  that  she  had  heard. 


152  TENSION 

She  said  she  couldn't  and  wouldn't  believe  it,  and  was 
sure  that  her  —  her  informant  had  been  mistaken." 

Sir  Julian  wondered  grimly  whether  Miss  Marchrose 
was  as  little  at  a  loss  as  himself  to  identify  the  infor- 
mant in  question.  Her  next  words  rather  relieved  him. 

"  She  may  very  well  have  heard  it  from  the  girl 
she  lives  with.  Curiously  enough,  she  was  once  gov- 
erness to  Lady  Mary  Isbister's  little  girl,  and  it  is  quite 
probable  that  she  heard  something  about  it  there.  I 
don't  know.  There  seem  to  be  no  end  to  the  coinci- 
dences that  accumulate  round  unpleasant  things.  It 
happened  more  than  three  years  ago,  and  he's  married 
now,  and  perfectly  happy  —  why  can't  it  be  allowed  to 
rest?" 

"  No  one  has  any  right  to  attempt  to  force  your 
confidence." 

"  Miss  Easter  didn't  do  that,  exactly.  I  think  she 
thought  I  should  be  only  too  ready  to  explain  away  the 
story  as  it  stood,  and  throw  some  light  which  would 
show  that  I  hadn't  just  thrown  over  a  man  who  cared 
for  me  on  the  grounds  of  his  being  condemned  to  the 
life  of  a  paralytic  invalid." 

"  I  should  find  it  very  difficult  to  believe  that  you 
did  that,"  said  Sir  Julian  gently. 

There  was  a  pause. 

"  The  facts  of  the  story,  in  the  main,  are  perfectly 
correct.  I  told  Miss  Easter  so." 

They  had  reached  the  end  of  the  sea-wall,  and  as 
they  turned  mechanically  back  upon  their  footsteps,  Sir 
Julian  for  a  moment  found  himself  facing  her. 

The  look  in  her  eyes  was  doubtful,  defiant,  beseech- 
ing, all  at  once.  Something  in  it  evoked  from  him  a 
very  sincere  and  simple  desire  to  reassure  her. 


TENSION  153 

"Won't  you  tell  me  about  it,  if  you  care  to?  I'm 
quite  sure  that,  whatever  the  facts  may  be,  there  is 
another  aspect  to  them  than  the  obvious  one." 

He  heard  a  little  gasp  that  unmistakably  denoted 
relief. 

"  Thank  you  very  much.  It's  so  much  easier  now 
you've  said  that  —  and  I  want  to  tell  you  about  it. 
You'll  understand,  perhaps." 

"  Don't  hurry,"  said  Julian,  more  with  reference 
to  a  certain  breathlessness  in  her  speech  than  to  the  in- 
creased speed  at  which  she  was  walking  beside  him. 

However,  she  slackened  her  pace  and  presently  began 
to  speak  quietly. 

"  I  don't  suppose  you  know  exactly  what  it's  like 
for  a  girl  with  no  home  of  her  own  —  the  difficulty 
of  having  any  friends,  or  seeing  anyone  except  just 
the  people  one's  working  with  —  not  that  there  was 
ever  anyone  I  wanted  to  see  particularly,  the  men  I 
associated  with  were  all  of  Mr.  Cooper's  type,  as  nice 
and  as  polite  as  could  be,  always  —  but  I  had  nothing 
in  common  with  them  except  the  day's  work.  There 
were  a  few  friends  of  my  father's  —  he  was  an  archi- 
tect—  but  after  his  death  they  rather  dropped  away 
from  us.  They  were  the  sort  of  people  who  turned 
up  their  noses  at  the  dressmaking  business.  My 
mother  took  it  up,  after  he  died,  because  it  was  the 
only  thing  she  could  do  to  make  money,  and  she  hoped 
it  would  mean  that  I  need  never  go  out  and  work  for 
myself  when  I  grew  up.  I'm  glad,"  said  Miss  March- 
rose  vehemently,  "  I'm  glad  and  thankful  that  she  never 
lived  to  see  the  muddle  I  made  of  everything." 

Sir  Julian  remained  silent,  aware  that  she  was  talk- 
ing to  herself  as  much  as  to  him. 


154  TENSION 

"  After  she  died  I  got  a  job  in  Southampton  Row. 
I  lived  in  a  hostel  for  women  workers.  It  was  all 
right  in  a  way,  but  deadly  lonely.  And  I  wasn't  used 
to  the  sort  of  girls  who  live  at  those  places,  and  I 
thought  myself  too  good  for  them  —  and  of  course 
they  saw  it.  They  used  to  play  cards  in  the  evening, 
or  some  of  them  played  the  piano,  and  sometimes 
they  made  up  parties  to  go  to  the  pit  at 
the  theatre  —  but  after  I'd  been  disagreeable  once  or 
twice,  naturally  they  didn't  ask  me  any  more.  And  I 
never  sat  in  the  public  sitting-room  downstairs,  but 
always  went  up  to  my  own  bedroom.  And  I  read  a 
book  at  meals.  You  don't  know  how  people  who  do 
that  are  hated.  So  they  ought  to  be,  I  suppose,  but  in 
those  days  I  thought  it  was  quite  worth  while  to  make 
them  all  indignant,  and  find  myself  left  in  peace.  But 
all  the  time  I  was  more  and  more  lonely,  and  I  used 
to  sit  and  think  in  the  evenings,  wondering  how  I 
could  bear  it  if  all  my  life  was  going  to  be  like  that 
—  just  working  on  and  on  and  then  becoming  like  one 
of  the  older  women  at  that  hostel  —  there  were  dozens 
of  them  —  pinched  and  discontented,  always  worrying 
over  expense,  and  why  there  weren't  two  helpings  of 
pudding  at  dinner,  with  nothing  to  do,  nothing  to 
remember,  nothing  to  look  forward  to  —  knowing 
themselves  utterly  and  absolutely  unnecessary  in  the 
world.  And  they'd  got  used  to  it  —  that  was  the 
ghastly  part  of  it  —  and  yet  they  couldn't  always  have 
been  like  that.  Once  they  must  have  passed  through 
awful  phases  of  rebellion  and  despair,  like  me,  and 
hoping  against  hope  that  something  glorious  and  bril- 
liant would  turn  up  —  the  sort  of  things  that  only 
happen  in  books  —  and  then  gradually  they'd  got  re- 


TENSION  155 

signed  —  and  hopeless,  and  indifferent  —  the  worst  of 
all.  And  I  felt  that  all  that,  year  after  year,  would  be 
coming  nearer  and  nearer  to  me " 

"  It  couldn't,"  muttered  Julian.  "  Marriage,  for  in- 
stance - 

"Of  course,  everyone  said  that.  My  mother  said 
it  —  she  kept  on  talking  about  '  When  you  marry, 
Pauline/  as  though  it  was  something  almost  inevitable. 
My  aunt  said  it,  when  I  spent  my  holidays  at  her  house. 
At  first  I  used  to  say  it  myself  —  thinking,  like  fools 
of  girls  always  do,  that  love  meant  happiness  and  that 
it  was  bound  to  come." 

The  bitterness  in  her  tone  shocked  him,  but  he  said 
nothing. 

"  As  I'm  telling  you  these  things  that  I've  never  told 
anyone,  I'd  better  tell  you  the  whole  truth,"  said  Miss 
Marchrose,  her  voice  coldly  dispassionate  all  at  once. 
"  I  am  not  in  the  least  attractive.  No  one,  except  Clar- 
ence Isbister,  has  ever  wanted  to  marry  me.  Some  girls 
• —  sometimes  quite  pretty  ones  —  are  like  that.  They 
don't  know  what  it  means  to  be  wanted  by  anyone." 

"  Stop  that,"  said  Julian.  "  I  can't  stand  it.  No 
man  has  any  right  to  hear  this  sort  of  thing.  Besides, 
it's  nonsense.  You  were  never  in  a  position  to  know 
any  men  of  your  own  sort." 

"  I  used  to  tell  myself  that.  But  it  wasn't  altogether 
true.  There  were  always  plenty  of  people  at  my  aunt's 
house  —  she  lived  in  Hampstead  —  and  both  my  cousins 
went  to  a  school  of  art,  and  had  any  number  of  friends, 
and  they  were  always  nice  to  me,  and  took  me  to  all 
their  parties  when  I  was  with  them.  That's  how  I  met 
Clarence  Isbister  —  at  the  Chelsea  Arts  Ball.  He'd 
come  with  a  party  of  people,  and  one  of  them  knew  my 


156  TENSION 

cousin  Dolly,  and  she  introduced  him  to  me,  and  he 
brought  Mr.  Isbister  and  said  he  wanted  to  know  me. 
He  was  only  a  boy  —  twenty-one,  I  think." 

"  Quite  old  enough  to  know  his  own  mind." 

{t  Was  he?  To  my  dying  day,"  said  Miss  March- 
rose  very  simply,  "  I  shall  never  understand  why  he 
fell  in  love  with  me.  I  danced  very  badly,  but  he  didn't 
seem  to  mind,  and  asked  me  to  sit  out  with  him  in- 
stead. We  talked,  but  I  don't  think  we  had  anything 
much  in  common.  I  told  him  I  was  a  teacher  of  short- 
hand, having  my  holiday.  He  kept  beside  me  the 
whole  evening  and  asked  to  be  introduced  to  Dolly  and 
if  he  might  come  and  see  us  in  Hampstead.  Of  course 
she  said  yes.  I  always  remember  Dolly  when  we  got 
back,  after  the  ball,  and  how  she  said,  '  Pauline,  that 
man's  fallen  in  love  with  you.  And,  mark  my  words, 
he's  the  sort  who'd  ask  one  to  marry  him.' 

"  And  she  was  quite  right.  Dolly  was  always  right 
about  men,  though  the  sort  of  men  she  knew  weren't 
the  same  sort  as  Clarence. 

"  Well,  you  know,  I  was  engaged  to  him.  I  was 
twenty-dve,  and  I'd  been  dreading  the  future,  and  it 
seemed,  in  a  way,  the  most  unexpected  chance  of  escap- 
ing everything  I  was  most  afraid  of.  But  I  don't 
know  if  you'll  ever  believe  it  if  I  tell  you  how  much  I 
hesitated." 

"  I  shall  believe  anything  you  tell  me.  Why  did  you 
hesitate?" 

"  Because  he  was  twenty-one,  and  an  ass,"  replied 
Miss  Marchrose,  with  the  most  unexpected  candour. 
"And  I  didn't  even  like  him  much;  he  irritated  me 
nearly  unbearably  sometimes.  It  was  very  ungrateful 
of  me,  but  it  seemed  to  me  that  he  loved  me  without 


TENSION  157 

rhyme  or  reason  —  he  knew  nothing  whatever  about 
me.  And  I  told  him  that  I  didn't  care  for  him.  But 
I  think,  partly,  the  fuss  his  people  made  helped  to  make 
him  want  it  all  the  more,  just  to  show  them  that  he 
would  take  his  own  way.  They'd  always  made  a  baby 
of  him  at  home,  I  gathered,  and  he  had  suddenly  begun 
to  resent  it" 

"  Yes,"  said  Julian  thoughtfully,  "  that  tallies  with 
the  little  I  remember  of  the  Isbisters,  when  I  met  them 
several  years  ago.  Did  you  ever  stay  there  ?  " 

"  No.  His  father  and  mother  were  much  too  angry 
about  it,  but  he  had  money  of  his  own  and  they  couldn't 
stop  it.  We  were  more  or  less  engaged  when  he  had 
his  accident.  He'd  been  at  home,  and  he'd  been  hoping 
that  his  mother  was  coming  round  a  little,  and  that 
perhaps  he  could  take  me  to  see  her  in  London.  He 
was  very  fond  of  his  mother;  but  poor  Clarence!  he 
was  like  a  little  boy  —  talking  of  the  '  lark '  it  would 
be  to  steal  a  march  on  them  all,  and  get  married  at  a 
Registrar's  Office  one  morning." 

"  Would  you  have  done  that?  " 

"  I  thought  I  would  —  I  was  back  at  work  by  then, 
and  in  the  hostel  again.  He  used  to  come  and  take  me 
for  walks  and  drives  and  out  to  dinner  —  and  often 
and  often  I  was  miserable  and  felt  that  I  was  taking 
everything  from  him,  and  giving  him  nothing  at  all. 
And  besides v 

"What?" 

"  I  suppose  no  one  gives  up  romantic  ideals,  if 
they've  had  them,  without  a  struggle,"  said  Miss 
Marchrose,  speaking  very  fast. 

"  Believe  me,"  said  Julian  gently,  "  it  is  worth  while 
to  remain  faithful  to  one's  romantic  ideals.  People 


158  TENSION 

will  tell  you  that  to  relinquish  them  means  progress  — 
but  don't  believe  them.  One  is  the  poorer  all  the  rest 
of  one's  life  for  having  let  them  go/' 

"  No  one  else  has  ever  said  that  to  me.  I  said  it 
to  myself  sometimes  —  but  most  of  the  time  I  honestly 
thought  that  I  should  be  a  fool  to  chuck  away  what 
Clarence  offered  me.  And  when  he  had  his  accident, 
in  the  country,  I  knew  nothing  about  it  for  a  week 
after  it  had  happened  —  naturally,  no  one  thought  of 
letting  me  know.  I  imagined  all  sorts  of  things  — 
that  he'd  chucked  me,  you  know.  And  I  was  angry 
and  furious  and  disappointed  —  in  spite  of  everything. 
But  my  aunt  read  about  the  accident  in  some  paper  or 
other,  and  wrote  to  me.  And  afterwards  Clarence's 
mother  wrote." 

"  She  didn't  ask  you,  then,  to  give  him  up?  " 
"  She  didn't  say  anything  about  my  being  engaged 
to  him  at  all.  But  when  he  was  better,  still  in  the 
nursing-home,  he  wrote  himself,  and  told  me  that  most 
likely  he  would  be  half -paralysed  for  the  rest  of  his 
life.  They  really  thought  he  would  be,  then,  you 
know.  And  he  asked  me  if  I  thought  I  could  bear  it. 
That  was  when  I  first  began  to  realise  my  own  in- 
adequacy. You  see,  all  the  time  I'd  been  thinking  of 
him,  and  how  young  he  was  —  how  unlike  what  I'd 
sometimes  fancied.  But  when  he  wrote  like  that,  I 
knew  that  I  couldn't  even  write  the  only  sort  of  letter 
that  would  have  been  any  good.  I  was  worse  than 
useless.  I  wrote  the  sort  of  answer  that  really  meant 
nothing  at  all  —  though  I  put  all  the  sort  of  affection- 
ate expressions  that  he  liked,  and  anything  and  every- 
thing I  could  think  of  —  but  I  didn't  answer  one  word 
about  our  engagement.  I  couldn't.  I  wrote  to  him 


TENSION  159 

every  day,  and  all  the  while  I  was  trying  to  gain  time, 
to  think  it  all  out. 

"  You've  no  idea  how  difficult  it  is  sometimes  just 
to  get  time  and  a  place  for  thinking.  There  was  my 
work  all  day,  and  then  I  used  to  fancy  I'd  have  the 
evening  —  but  it  was  so  cold  in  my  room,  and  I  found 
that  I  was  only  thinking  about  that  all  the  time,  and 
how  I  could  keep  my  hands  warm.  And  in  bed  —  one 
always  imagines  one  can  do  all  one's  thinking  in  bed. 
But  one  can't!  Things  look  quite  different  in  the 
night,  somehow  much  more  important  —  I  can't  ex- 
plain; and  then  all  the  shorthand  outlines  one  had 
been  making  all  day  on  the  blackboard  seemed  to 
come  into  the  darkness.  I'm  making  it  all  sound 
muddled,  I  know  —  but  that's  what  it  was.  Just  a 
muddle,  and  all  the  relative  values  of  things  seeming 
to  turn  upside  down."  She  paused. 

"  I  understand,"  said  Julian. 

"  In  the  end,  Clarence  wrote  again,  and  said  he  must 
release  me  from  the  engagement;  he  couldn't  ask  me 
to  marry  a  man  who  would  most  likely  never  be  able 
to  walk  again.  And  I  thought,  and  thought  —  till  I 
was  nearly  frantic.  You  see,  in  a  way,  it  would  be 
the  impulse  of  every  woman  to  feel  that  she  was  all 
the  more  bound  in  honour  to  stick  to  a  man  because  of 
that  —  of  course,  I'm  not  speaking  about  those  people 
who  love  one  another,  that's  different.  But  it  kept 
coming  over  me  like  a  wave  —  how  unthinkable  it 
would  be  to  refuse  to  marry  a  man  after  all,  after  one 
had  promised,  just  when  he'd  had  that  appalling  knock 
from  Fate  and  everything  that  made  his  life  worth 
living  had  been  taken  away.  As  though  one  could 
never  do  enough  to  make  up  for  it  all.  .  .  .  But  in 


160  TENSION 

the  end  it  was  that  which  decided  me.  You  see,  I 
knew  that  I  could  never  make  up  —  and  not  only  that, 
but  that  I  might  make  it  far,  far  worse  for  him.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  only  a  very  great  love  could  have 
been  adequate.  And  I  not  only  didn't  love  him,  but 
I  knew  myself  —  I'm  not  patient,  I'm  not  an  unselfish 
woman.  Heaven  only  knows  what  I  should  be,  mar- 
ried to  an  invalid,  to  an  unfortunate  boy  who  cared 
for  me,  and  who  would  be  utterly  dependent  on  me  for 
all  the  things  that  matter  most.  And  I  could  have 
given  him  nothing  —  I  should  have  been  worse  than 
useless  to  him.  There  was  nothing  real  between  us  — 
only  just  his  infatuation  —  and  I  knew  that  couldn't 
last.  I  believed  then,  when  I  thought  of  him  as  a 
cripple,  that  if  I'd  married  Clarence,  he  would  have 
come  to  hate  me.  Before  he  was  hurt,  I'd  meant  to 
risk  it  and  to  try  and  be  a  good  wife  to  him,  though 
even  then  I  knew  I  was  cheating  —  taking  all  he  could 
give  me,  and  bringing  so  little.  But  afterwards,  it 
seemed  to  me  that  it  would  be  a  worse  cheating  to  try 
and  meet  a  tremendous  demand  like  that  with  just 
nothing  at  all.  So  I  wrote  and  tried  to  explain  it  to 
him,  and  tell  him  why  I  wouldn't  say  I'd  marry  him  in 
spite  of  it  all." 

For  the  last  time,  they  reached  the  end  of  the  sea- 
wall and  turned,  once  more  facing  the  blustering  wind. 
In  the  rapidly  gathering  twilight  Julian  could  only 
see  that  her  face  was  very  pale. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  with  a  very  small,  rather  tired 
laugh,  "  he  didn't  become  a  cripple  for  life,  and  he 
married  somebody  else,  who  was  suitable.  And  I 
sometimes  wonder  whether  I  was  a  fool." 

"  I  don't  think  you  wonder  really,"  said  Sir  Julian 


TENSION  161 

steadily.  "  You  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  you  had 
been  led  into  a  false  position,  and  that  you  had  the 
courage  to  act  up  to  your  own  inmost  convictions,  in- 
stead of  making  bad  worse  by  yielding  to  the  impulse 
of  a  generous  self-sacrifice  that  is  bound  to  spell  disas- 
ter unless  there  is  the  capability  of  sustained  effort 
to  back  it.  Lacking  that  capability,  as  you  were  aware 
of  lacking  it,  you  were  brave  enough  to  set  obvious 
sentiment  at  defiance." 

"  Oh !  "  cried  Miss  Marchrose,  in  an  odd  voice  be- 
tween laughter  and  sadness,  "  I  have  never  before 
heard  the  case  for  the  defence  stated  like  that !  Thank 
you,  Sir  Julian." 

They  climbed  the  sandy  declivity,  tufted  with  hill- 
ocks and  boulders  almost  invisible  in  the  increasing 
dusk,  and  reached  the  narrow  and  stony  road  at  the 
top. 

"  We  are  not  far  from  the  farm,"  said  Julian. 
"  You  must  be  tired." 

"  No,  I  like  going  down  to  the  sea.  I'm  glad  I  met 
you.  I  was  so  angry  at  the  beginning  of  the  afternoon 
—  after  I'd  seen  poor  little  Miss  Easter." 

"  I'm  not  at  all  surprised." 

"  Do  you  think,"  said  Miss  Marchrose,  somewhat 
more  than  doubtfully,  "  that  she  is  a  discreet  person?  " 

Sir  Julian  so  emphatically  thought  the  contrary  that 
for  the  moment  words  almost  failed  him. 

"  Let  us  hope,"  he  said  at  last,  rather  grimly,  "  that 
decency  may  induce  her  to  hold  her  tongue  on  a  sub- 
ject of  which  she  knows  nothing  whatsoever." 

It  struck  him  as  he  spoke  that  the  foundation  of  the 
hope  was  but  a  frail  one,  and  he  wondered  whether 
Miss  Marchrose  was  thinking  of  Mark  Easter  as  the 


1 62  TENSION 

recipient  of  his  sister's  newly-acquired  piece  of  in- 
formation. 

If  so,  she  gave  no  further  sign  of  it,  and  he  took  her 
to  the  door  of  the  farmhouse  almost  in  silence. 

Julian's  thoughts  that  evening  were  occupied  almost 
exclusively  with  Miss  Marchrose.  The  complete 
frankness  with  which  she  had  spoken  that  afternoon 
had  put  before  him  an  extraordinarily  new  aspect  of  the 
self-contained,  competent  Lady  Superintendent  of  the 
College.  It  appeared  to  him  that  he  very  well  could 
imagine  for  himself  all  that  she  had  hinted  at,  rather 
than  described. 

The  architect  father,  the  excellent,  probably  middle- 
class  mother,  who  had  set  up  a  dressmaking  business  so 
that  her  child  might  live  at  home,  and  the  youthful 
spirit  of  pride  and  intolerance  that  had  resented  the 
very  existence  of  any  such  endeavour  to  shield  her. 
Even  the  semi-Bohemian,  semi-suburban  home  of  the 
aunt  and  cousins  at  Hampstead  came  very  clearly  be- 
fore his  mind's  eye.  He  felt  convinced  that  the  aunt 
was  an  elder  sister  of  the  paternal  Marchrose,  and 
that  she  and  "  Dolly  "  had  brought  much  common-sense 
to  bear  upon  the  Clarence  equation  and  that  they  must 
have  talked  the  matter  over  and  over,  with  a  great 
effect  of  giving  frank  and  disinterested  advice. 

And  the  girl  who  was  tired  of  her  work,  who 
thought  herself  too  good  for  the  inhabitants  of  her 
hostel  dwelling,  whom  "  no  one  had  ever  wanted  to 
marry " —  it  was  not  altogether  wonderful,  Julian 
thought,  that  she  should  have  stifled  her  foolish,  school- 
girl dreams  of  romance  and  accepted  all  that  the  in- 
fatuated boy  of  "  the  sort  who  asks  one  to  marry  him  " 
had  been  ready  to  offer  her. 


TENSION  163 

Her  acceptance  of  him  was  much  less  remarkable 
than  her  subsequent  rejection. 

It  never  occurred  to  Julian  for  an  instant  to  question 
that  she  had  taken  her  decisive  step  from  any  reason 
but  the  one  she  had  given :  that  of  knowing  herself  un- 
equal to  meet  the  supreme  demand  suddenly  made  upon 
her.  Julian  remembered  the  words  that  he  had  twice 
heard  applied  to  that  refusal  of  hers. 

"  Of  course  she  didn't  really  care  for  him." 

The  literal  truth,  Julian  reflected.  And  it  was  her 
resolute  facing  of  that  truth,  in  defiance  of  sentiment 
as  of  condemnation  from  others,  that,  to  Julian's  way 
of  thinking,  had  redeemed  the  wrong  that  she  had  done 
to  Clarence  Isbister  no  less  than  to  her  own  inner 
vision. 

"  For  when  all's  said  and  done,"  said  Julian  to  him- 
self, "  what  is  she  but  an  incurable  romanticist,  unable 
to  put  up  with  the  second  best  in  that  which,  rightly  or 
wrongly,  she  rates  highest  in  life?  But  what  one  sees 
ahead  for  her  —  that's  another  matter." 

Sir  Julian,  pessimist  and  idealist  both  at  once, 
shrugged  his  shoulders  and  dismissed  the  speculation. 
But  it  had  brought  him  to  the  thought  of  Mark  Easter. 

He  thought  that  Mark,  ten  years  ago,  would  have 
loved  her,  and  that  he  would  have  made  her  happy. 
Julian,  who  had  very  completely  missed  happiness  him- 
self, still  held  that  in  the  knowledge  of  it  lay  the  secret 
of  fulfilment.  Mark  had  known  it,  knew  it  still.  It 
lived,  fundamental,  in  himself.  But  Miss  Marchrose 
should  have  known  it  as  a  gift  from  without,  a  sudden 
revelation,  even  if  enduring  in  its  entirety  for  a  little 
while  only.  Julian  wondered  whether  she  were  destined 
still  to  know  it,  through  the  man  whom  he  believed 


164  TENSION 

should  teach  her,  through  Mark  Easter,  and  if  so,  at 
what  cost? 

He  summed  it  up  with  his  usual,  "  It's  no  business  of 
mine.  But  I  believe  she'd  think  it  worth  while,  at  any 
price  —  and  by  Heaven,  she's  right!  " 

Perhaps  incurable  romanticism  was  not  attributable 
to  Miss  Marchrose  only. 


XIII 

WHEN  Lady  Rossiter  indulged,  in  the  presence  of 
her  husband,  in  a  space  of  silent  reverie,  it  was  always 
her  intention  to  meet  with  interruption  and  enquiry  that 
should  lead  to  a  mutually  beneficial  discussion  upon  the 
subject  of  her  thoughts.  In  spite  of  the  many  disap- 
pointments inflicted  upon  her  by  Sir  Julian  in  this  re- 
spect, it  was  also  her  custom  to  return  good  for  evil 
by  never  allowing  him  more  than  ten  consecutive  min- 
utes of  reflectiveness  without  some  sympathetic  re- 
minder that  he  was  not  alone. 

Accordingly,  when  he  had  smoked  two  cigarettes 
after  dinner  in  complete  silence,  gazing  the  while,  with 
obvious  preoccupation,  into  the  fire,  Lady  Rossiter 
lifted  up  her  voice  and  spoke. 

"  I  saw  the  first  little,  wee,  wonderful  sign  of  spring 
this  afternoon.  A  patch  of  snowdrops,  just  outside 
the  gates/' 

"Did  you?" 

"  Such  brave  little  white  sentinels !  I  always  love 
the  French  name  —  perce-neige,"  said  Lady  Rossiter, 
who,  like  many  another  cultured  soul,  generally  saw 
more  beauty  and  expressiveness  in  the  vocabulary  of 
languages  other  than  her  own. 

"  I  am  afraid  there  was  no  neige  for  them  to  percer 
on  this  occasion/'  observed  Sir  Julian,  with  very  lan- 
guid interest  in  the  horticultural  vagaries  of  these  har- 
bingers of  spring. 

165 


1 66  TENSION 

(<  There  very  well  might  be,  by  to-morrow.  I 
thought  it  bitterly  cold.  Were  you  out  this  after- 
noon? " 

"  I  was.  I  heard  Cooper  being  extremely  eloquent 
and  long-winded  in  the  distance,  and  I  thought  that 
everything  pointed  to  my  taking  a  long  walk." 

"  They  came  to  consult  me  about  a  presentation  — 
a  wedding-present  for  Iris." 

"  I  hope  you  told  them  they  had  much  better  let  it 
alone." 

"  Julian,  how  could  I  ?  Poor  things,  it  is  rather 
touching  of  them  —  a  sum  which  would  seem  little 
enough  to  ourselves,  must  mean  a  great  deal  to  them 
—  perhaps  a  question  of  actual  bread  and  butter." 

"  Then  why  encourage  them  to  throw  it  away?  " 

"  I  told  them  that  of  course  it  was  the  thought  that 
she  would  value.  But  they'd  set  their  hearts  on  having 
some  sort  of  little  ceremony  —  you  know  how  they 
love  anything  of  that  kind  —  with  speeches  and  an  ex- 
cuse for  a  gathering." 

"  Where  do  they  want  to  gather?  Fuller  will  never 
allow  them  to  desecrate  the  College.  You  remember 
how  sulky  he  was  when  they  got  up  that  party  there, 
this  time  last  year." 

Edna  uttered  her  usual  lenient  "  Poor  Mr.  Fuller ! 
He  is  heart  and  soul  devoted  to  the  College.  But  I 
think  perhaps  if  I  talked  to  him,  it  might  be  possible 
to  soften  his  hard  heart.  He  really  only  needs  a  little 
management,  and  I've  practically  undertaken  to  go  and 
see  him  about  it.  Why  shouldn't  the  poor  things  have 
a  little  pleasure  in  their  lives?  I  sometimes  think 
there's  very  little  gaiety  in  the  world,  Julian." 


TENSION  167 

"  I  hope  you  may  add  to  it  by  paying  Fuller  a  visit, 
but  I  do  not  feel  particularly  sanguine." 

"  I  don't  think  I  shall  have  much  trouble  with  him, 
somehow/'  said  Edna,  with  a  little  laugh.  "  Only  the 
whole  thing  will  need  rather  tactful  handling,  as  it 
may  be  a  shade  difficult  for  Iris,  if  she's  not  expecting 
it.  She'll  have  to  say  a  few  words,  unless  Mark  says 
them  for  her." 

"Of  course,  the  whole  thing  is  really  a  tribute  to 
Mark,"  said  Julian.  "  He's  extraordinarily  popular 
—  as  well  he  may  be." 

"  Yes,  they  practically  admitted  that  they  hoped  it 
would  please  him.  But  after  all,  Julian,  '  all  the  world 
loves  a  lover.' ' 

"  Does  it?  "  said  Sir  Julian  expressively.  "  Did  all 
this  conversation  take  place  at  tea  this  afternoon,  may 
I  ask,  in  the  presence  of  the  smirking  Iris  herself?  " 

Lady  Rossiter  looked  pained  at  the  extreme  unkind- 
ness  of  the  adjective  selected  by  her  husband. 

"  Iris  didn't  come  in  till  later,  though,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  her  arrival  interrupted  us  when  there  were  sev- 
eral points  still  unsettled.  One  thing,  though,  rather 
vexed  me." 

"  What  was  that?  "  asked  Sir  Julian,  rather  wearily, 
aware  that  he  would  be  told  whether  he  enquired  or 
whether  he  did  not,  and  for  once  choosing  the  less  un- 
amiable  course. 

"  There  was  some  idea,"  Lady  Rossiter  understated 
the  case,  "  of  getting  the  actual  presentation  itself  made 
by  the  most  unsuitable  person  they  could  very  well 
have  selected  —  that  unfortunate  courtesan  manque c, 
the  superintendent  woman." 


i68  TENSION 

If  Lady  Rossiter  wished  to  see  the  effect  of  her 
pleasant  epithet  upon  her  husband,  she  was  doomed  to 
disappointment.  The  complete  silence  in  which  he 
received  it  impelled  her  to  continue. 

"  It  is  a  very  disagreeable  word  to  apply  to  any 
woman,  but  I  fail  to  see  what  else  one  can  call  her. 
We  know  that  she  entangled  one,  very  young,  man, 
with  money  and  position,  and  then  threw  him  over  in 
a  peculiarly  heartless  manner,  and  that  she  is  now  tak- 
ing every  advantage  of  poor  Mark's  miserable  situa- 
tion to  try  and  involve  him  in  an  affair  that  can  only 
mean  scandal  and  misery,  however  it  ends." 

"  I  fail  to  see  how  the  reckless  career  which  you 
impute  to  Miss  Marchrose,  Edna,  can  possibly  affect 
the  quality  of  the  silver  salt-cellars,  or  whatever  it  is, 
that  she  is  to  present  to  Iris." 

"  Ah,  Julian  —  a  young  girl,  pure,  innocent,  un- 
sullied! How  could  one  see  it,  without  a  sense  of 
profanation?  Call  it  fanciful  if  you  like,  but  there  is 
something  in  me  that  could  never  bear  to  allow  that." 

"  No,  I  don't  think  I  should  call  it  fanciful,  Edna," 
said  her  husband  slowly. 

"You  think  me  prejudiced!"  exclaimed  Edna. 
"  But  indeed,  Mark  is  very  dear  to  me,  and  for  his 
sake  —  and  for  womanhood's  sake  —  I  can't  bear  that 
the  —  the  delicate  bloom  should  be  brushed  from  any 
token  connected  with  his  sister's  wedding." 

"  Then  you  had  better  arrange  to  have  a  bonfire  of 
the  remaining  copies  of  '  Why,  Ben!  A  Story  of  the 
Sexes,'  "  imperturbably  replied  her  husband. 

Julian  had  for  so  long  been  in  the  habit  of  protect- 
ing himself  against  those  peculiar  shafts  that  are  only 
launched  by  really  and  professedly  good  women,  with 


TENSION  169 

indifferent  satire,  that  the  small,  cheap  fleer  came  al- 
most automatically  to  his  lips.  It  certainly  interfered 
not  at  all  with  his  intimate  realisation  that  Lady  Ros- 
siter  could  hardly  have  chosen  a  worse  moment  for  an 
endeavour  to  enlist  his  sympathies  on  her  side  in  the 
indirect  contest  that  she  had  elected  to  wage  against 
Miss  Marchrose. 

"  I  would  sooner  make  the  presentation  myself,  ab- 
surd though  it  would  be,  than  feel  that  she  was  mak- 
ing it." 

"  It  would,  however,  as  you  say,  be  absurd,"  re- 
plied Sir  Julian  coldly.  "Of  course,  it  must  be  made 
by  a  representative  of  the  College  staff.  Fairfax  Ful- 
ler is  the  proper  person/' 

"  The  misogynist !  " 

Sir  Julian  wondered,  not  for  the  first  time,  why  his 
wife  clung  so  persistently  to  the  libel  attached  by  her 
to  Mr.  Fuller,  and  came  to  his  habitual  conclusion,  that 
she  had  found  it  necessary  to  her  self-respect  to  deduce 
a  wholesale  hatred  of  the  female  sex  from  the  Super- 
visor's taciturn  reception  of  her  own  advances. 

"  I  will  talk  to  Mr.  Fuller,  Julian,  and  see  what  can 
be  arranged.  I  thought  of  going  in  one  afternoon  next 
week.  There  is  not  too  much  time  for  arranging  de- 
tails now.  The  wedding  is  to-day  fortnight." 

"  I  hadn't  realised  it  was  so  near.  However,  all  the 
better.  It'll  be  over  the  sooner,  and  Iris  can  remove 
her  Douglas  from  hence  before  he  has  time  to  begin 
talking  about  '  we  married  men.' ' 

Lady  Rossiter  laughed  discreetly,  but  after  a  little 
pause  she  interjected  quietly : 

"  Mr.  Garrett  is  a  good  sort,  really,  in  spite  of  his 


TENSION 

She  had  no  particular  grounds  for  this  charitable  as- 
sertion, but  she  made  it  a  matter  of  principle  to  utter 
some  kind  little  phrase  on  behalf  of  anybody  whom  her 
interlocutor  of  the  moment  had  verbally  slighted  or 
condemned.  This  peace-making  habit  was  not  unapt 
to  have  the  singular  effect  of  promoting  a  lively  desire 
on  the  part  of  the  first  speaker  to  abuse  the  absent  one 
a  good  deal  more  vigorously  than  before. 

Sir  Julian,  however,  was  either  too  old  a  hand,  or 
else  too  little  interested  in  Mr.  Garrett,  to  find  himself 
similarly  moved. 

"  I  cannot  imagine  why  Iris  insists  upon  being  mar- 
ried down  here  at  all,"  he  said,  without  hostility. 

"  She  couldn't  have  been  married  from  that  tiny  flat 
of  hers,  and  I  think  it's  natural  she  should  want  it  to 
be  from  her  brother's  house.  It  will  have  to  be  very 
quiet,  as  they  won't  have  room  for  any  sort  of  recep- 
tion. Besides,  it  would  be  very  unsuitable,  and  I'm 
glad  to  say  that  Mark  has  made  her  see  it." 

"  How  many  of  '  we  Garretts '  are  going  to  grace 
the  scene?  " 

"  Mr.  Garrett  only  has  a  father,"  said  Edna  repres- 
sively.  "  He  is  to  stay  at  the  cottage." 

"  Tell  Mark  that  we  can  put  up  anyone  he  likes,  for 
a  night  or  two." 

"  Indeed,  yes.  In  a  household  where  every  item 
must  count,  a  guest  is  rather  a  serious  consideration, 
I'm  afraid.  Mark  will  probably  be  thankful  when  it's 
all  over." 

Sir  Julian  felt  no  doubt  of  it. 

His  sympathies  with  Mark,  already  lively,  became 
acute  the  following  morning  when  bride  and  bride- 
groom-elect suddenly  appeared  in  his  study  with  the 


TENSION  171 

purpose  of  expressing  their  gratitude  for  the  extremely 
liberal  cheque  that  had  been  Sir  Julian  and  Lady  Ros- 
siter's  wedding-gift  to  Iris. 

"  Douglas  and  I  have  been  nearly  quarrelling  the 
whole  way  here  as  to  how  we'll  spend  it,"  said  Miss 
Easter  candidly. 

"  Hardly  quarrelling,  have  we?  "  reproachfully  asked 
Mr.  Garrett,  as  usual  addressing  himself  exclusively 
to  his  betrothed. 

"Oh,  we've  never  really  quarrelled  yet,  have  we? 
At  least,"  said  Iris  archly,  "  unless  you  count  the  copper 
tea-kettle  time." 

"  Ah !  The  copper  tea-kettle !  "  responded  Mr.  Gar- 
rett meaningly. 

At  which  reference  they  both,  according  to  their 
wont,  indulged  in  the  hearty  laughter,  naturally  un- 
shared by  Sir  Julian,  of  those  to  whom  some  perfectly 
obvious  allusion  is  amusingly  intelligible. 

"  We've  actually  settled  the  great  question  of  brides- 
maids, Sir  Julian,"  observed  Iris,  an  easy  victim  to  the 
not  uncommon  bridal  delusion  that  such  details  must 
be  of  major  interest  to  all  alike. 

"  Your  friend  in  London?  " 

"Oh,  no!  She  doesn't  approve  of  marriage,  you 
know.  She  thinks  it  a  mere  servile  bond  for  the 
woman,"  explained  Iris  glibly.  "  In  fact,  she's  a  tre- 
mendous advocate  for  Free  Love.  She's  furious  with 
me  for  marrying  at  all." 

Sir  Julian  glanced  at  Mr.  Garrett,  wondering  how 
he  regarded  the  rather  stupefying  gospel  preached  by 
the  chosen  friend  and  companion  of  his  bride. 

The  young  man  appeared  more  thoughtful  than  dis- 
mayed. 


172  TENSION 

"  In  a  general  way,"  he  remarked  detachedly,  "  we 
moderns  are  all  in  favour  of  abolishing  the  present 
rather  archaic  marriage  laws,  and  re-establishing  the 
whole  thing  upon  the  basis  of  a  purely  civil  contract; 
dissoluble  after  a  term  of  years  at  the  wish  of  either 
or  both  of  the  contracting  parties." 

Sir  Julian  had  a  momentary  vision  of  earnest  sub- 
urban debating  societies,  at  which  he  felt  sure  that  Mr. 
Garrett  had  formerly  launched  his  eloquence,  in  words 
almost,  if  not  quite,  identical  with  his  present  text. 
Having  no  wish  to  fathom  the  young  man's  further 
views,  he  merely  renewed  enquiry  of  Iris  as  to  the 
question  of  bridesmaids. 

"Only  dear  little  Ruthie,"  said  Iris.  "It's  quite 
odd,  but  I  haven't  got  an  enormous  number  of  girl 
friends.  Somehow  I've  got  heaps  and  heaps  more  men 
friends.  I  can't  imagine  why,  I'm  sure." 

Neither  could  Julian,  but  he  refrained  from  saying 
so. 

"  At  one  time,  I  rather  wanted  Miss  Marchrose.  Of 
course,  I  know  she's  not  quite,  absolutely,  altogether 
one  of  ourselves  —  but  still,  as  it's  all  to  be  so  quiet  — 
and  then  I  could  have  got  hold  of  a  cousin  to  match 
her  —  but  she  wouldn't  hear  of  it.  Of  course,  she  is 
older  than  I  am." 

"  A  good  deal  older,  surely,"  said  Sir  Julian  rather 
drily,  contemplating  the  youthful  blend  of  prettiness 
and  vulgarity  in  front  of  him. 

"  Douglas,"  said  Iris,  with  great  suddenness,  "  do 
go  away.  I've  just  remembered  that  I  want  to  ask 
Sir  Julian  something  most  frightfully  particular." 

"Secrets?"  ejaculated  Douglas,  with  playful  re- 
proach. 


TENSION  173 

"  Just  a  tiny,  tiny  little  one.  Now  do  go  right  away, 
there's  a  dear  boy." 

Thus  adjured,  it  was  scarcely  possible  for  Mr.  Gar- 
rett  to  do  otherwise  than  to  obey,  but  it  would  have 
shown  but  little  knowledge  of  his  capabilities  as  an  en- 
gaged young  man  to  expect  him  to  do  so  without  a  last 
mirthful  flight  of  fancy. 

"  Then  I'm  weel  awa',"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  Scotch 
manner  that  almost  compensated  for  the  lack  of  rele- 
vance in  his  choice  of  idiom,  and  swung  his  long  legs 
over  the  sill  of  the  low  window,  scraping  the  paint 
with  his  boots  as  he  did  so  and  annoying  Sir  Julian. 

"  It's  about  Miss  Marchrose,"  said  Iris,  her  head 
even  more  on  one  side  than  usual. 

Sir  Julian  wondered  whether  he  could  possibly  stop 
her  before  she  said  anything  more. 

"  At  first  I  liked  her  awfully.  In  fact,  I  think  she's 
sweet.  But  the  story  about  the  poor  man  she  threw 
over  is  perfectly  dreadful.  Of  course,  she  couldn't 
have  cared  for  him  really,  because  any  woman ' 

"  I  know  all  about  that,"  hastily  interrupted  Sir 
Julian.  "  Surely  we  needn't  go  into  a  thing  that  hap- 
pened several  years  ago  before  she  ever  came  here,  and 
which  is  no  one's  business  but  hers." 

"If  it  had  been  Douglas,"  pursued  Miss  Easter,  fix- 
ing an  enormous  pair  of  melancholy  eyes  upon  her  dis- 
comfited listener,  "if  it  had  been  Douglas,  however 
much  of  an  invalid  he  had  to  be,  I  should  simply  want 
to  marry  him  all  the  more.  I  should  want  to  give  up 
my  whole  life  to  him,  so  as  to  make  up  a  little." 

"  Well,  I  hope  you  may  never  be  tried  in  such  a  ter- 
rible manner,"  said  Julian,  unable  to  repress  a  shudder 
of  horrified  sympathy  for  the  invalid  who  should  find 


174  TENSION 

his  shattered  life  relegated  to  the  devotion  of  Miss 
Easter. 

"  But  of  course,  she  couldn't  have  loved  him  really," 
asserted  Iris,  apparently  unaware  of  a  certain  lack  of 
originality  in  her  choice  of  comment. 

"  No." 

"  Or  she  would  have  felt  that  she  couldn't  do  enough 
to  make  up  for  it  all." 

"  Yes." 

"  That's  what  I  should  feel  if  it  had  been  Douglas." 

Sir  Julian  could  not  think  of  a  reply  that  should  pro- 
vide any  variation  upon  his  previous  monosyllabic 
ones. 

"  And  if  it  had  been  me,  Douglas  would  have  felt 
just  like  that,  too." 

Sir  Julian  began  to  wonder  how  much  longer  they 
were  to  continue  this  consideration  of  hypothetical  con- 
tingencies. 

"  The  fact  is,  I'm  afraid  I've  been  too  fearfully  silly 
for  anything." 

It  being  impossible  to  express  his  own  conviction  that 
nothing  could  be  more  probable,  Sir  Julian  still  sat 
speechless,  looking  with  growing  dismay  at  his  visitor, 
who  was  exhibiting  every  sign  of  an  intention  to  burst 
into  tears. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  said  Iris,  beginning  to  cry,  "  that 
Mark  has  fallen  in  love  with  her." 

After  a  pause  of  extremely  uncomfortable  consider- 
ation, Sir  Julian  observed,  with  a  sententiousness  of 
which  he  was  perfectly  aware  : 

"If  such  is  unfortunately  the  case,  why  should  you 
blame  yourself?" 

"  Because  I  did  everything  I  could  to  make  it  hap- 


TENSION  175 

pen.  I  saw  they  liked  each  other,  ages  ago  —  oh,  long 
before  Christmas !  and  I  had  her  to  dinner  and  things, 
and  made  her  sing  '  Annie  Laurie '  because  Mark  ad- 
mired her  voice,  and  I  told  him  how  she  said  she  liked 
working  at  the  College  with  him." 

"  But  why,  in  Heaven's  name?  " 

"  Because,"  sobbed  Iris,  "  I  thought  it  would  be  such 
a  beautiful  thing  for  them  to  defy  conventionality  and 
be  happy  in  spite  of  everything  —  a  grande  passion  — 
you  know.  .  .  ." 

The  extreme  perversion  of  the  point  of  view  thus 
disclosed  left  Sir  Julian,  at  no  time  eloquent,  more 
completely  deprived  of  utterance  than  ever  before. 

"  In  those  days,"  Iris  continued,  with  an  effect  of 
great  remoteness  in  her  manner,  "  I  thoroughly  and 
completely  believed  in  Free  Love  myself.  Of  course, 
I  was  younger,  then." 

"  Only  by  two  months,"  Sir  Julian  gloomily  re- 
minded her. 

"  Oh,  yes,  but  those  two  months  have  taught  me 
everything.  Love  is  such  a  wonderful  teacher.  Ever 
since  I've  been  engaged  to  Douglas,  it's  been  like  a  new 
heaven  and  a  new  earth,  and  I  can  see  things  that  I 
never  saw  before." 

She  began  to  dab  at  her  eyes  with  her  handkerchief, 
while  Sir  Julian  thought  of  a  great  many  observations 
which  it  was  extremely  improbable  that  he  would  make 
aloud. 

"  It  was  only  a  day  or  two  ago  that  I  heard  about 
her  having  been  engaged  and  then  jilting  the  man  be- 
cause of  his  accident,  and  it  was  the  most  frightful 
shock  you  can  imagine.  What  should  I  feel  if  she  did 
that  sort  of  thing  to  Mark  one  day?  Of  course,  it 


176  TENSION 

shows  that  she's  not  at  all  the  sort  of  person  to  sacrifice 
herself  for  anybody." 

"  I  am  quite  sure,"  said  Sir  Julian  gently,  "  that  you 
have  no  idea  what  a  terrible  thing  it  would  be  for  any 
man  to  fall  seriously  in  love  with  a  woman  to  whom 
he  could  never  offer  marriage.  Mark  is  a  married 
man." 

"  He  hasn't  seen  that  awful  creature  for  years  and 
years,"  said  Iris  resentfully. 

"  That  has  nothing  to  do  with  it.     She  is  his  wife/' 

"  It  seems  so  dreadfully  hard." 

"  Yes,  but  it  would  seem  a  great  deal  harder  if  he 
cared  for  someone  else." 

"  And  she  for  him,"  Iris  added  tenaciously. 

"  I  hope  that  your  imagination  has  misled  you,"  said 
Sir  Julian  gravely. 

"  But  what  shall  I  do?" 

"  Nothing.  If  you  have  already  ceased  your  ex- 
traordinarily misguided  efforts  towards  bringing  them 
together,  you  can  only  leave  the  whole  question  alone. 
After  all,  Mark  knows  very  well  that  as  long  as  his 
wife  is  alive  he's  as  much  bound  to  her  as  though  she 
were  living  at  home  in  the  normal  way.  They  are 
neither  of  them  children,  and  we  have  no  right  what- 
ever to  suppose  that  they  cannot  tell  right  from  wrong." 

"  I  never  told  her  Mark  was  married." 

"I  think  she  knows." 

"  I  wonder  if  that  would  stop  her,"  said  Iris,  reflec- 
tively. "  I  can't  help  feeling  that  if  by  some  dreadful 
Kismet  Douglas  had  been  already  married  when  we 
met,  I  should  have  given  myself  to  him  just  the  same. 
I  should  simply  have  had  to.  I'm  sure  that  in  some 
former  incarnation " 


TENSION  177 

"  You  know  nothing  about  it,"  said  Julian  uncere- 
moniously. "  You  have  been  a  foolish  little  girl,  and 
the  only  thing  left  for  you  to  do  is  to  forget  the  ex- 
tremely poor  taste  in  which  you  have  been  behaving. 
I  should  like  to  know  what  made  you  come  and  tell  me 
about  it,  though." 

"  I  thought  you  could  talk  to  Mark."  Miss  Easter 
wept  piteously,  looking  so  very  youthful  that  Julian 
felt  inclined  to  relent. 

"  That  shows  how  very  little  you  know  about  it.  I 
have  no  intention  of  insulting  Mark  by  doing  anything 
of  the  kind,  and  if  I  did,  he  would  very  properly  kick 
me  out  of  the  house.  Stop  crying,  please." 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  better  if  Miss  Marchrose  were  to 
leave  the  College?" 

"What  for?  Now  stop  being  so  childish  and  let 
me  fetch  you  a  glass  of  water.  Mr.  Garrett  will  want 
to  know  why  you  have  been  crying." 

"  I  always,  always  tell  Douglas  everything.  We've 
promised  never  to  have  any  secrets  from  one  another. 
Perfect  confidence  is  the  only  way  to  married  happi- 
ness." 

"  You  can  tell  me  about  that  after  you've  been  mar- 
ried a  year  or  two.  But  now  I  want  you  to  listen  to 
me." 

Iris  looked  at  him  with  drowned,  forget-me-not 
eyes. 

"  I  am  going  to  forget  what  you  have  told  me,  as 
far  as  it  is  humanly  possible  to  do  so,  and  you  must 
do  the  same.  Promise  me  that  you  won't  mention 
what  we  have  been  discussing  to  anybody  else,  ever." 

"Oh,  but  Douglas!     Oughtn't  I  to  tell  Douglas?" 

"  No,  certainly  not" 


178  TENSION 

"  It  seems  so  awful  to  begin  one's  married  life  with 
a  secret." 

Sir  Julian  had  perhaps  never  before  felt  so  much 
tempted  to  resort  to  physical  violence. 

"  I  assure  you  that  it  would  be  exceedingly  dishon- 
ourable, and  that  you  couldn't  do  Mark  a  worse  service, 
than  to  hint  at  such  a  thing  to  anybody  on  earth." 

"  Then,"  said  Iris  heroically,  "  I  promise." 

Sir  Julian  relaxed  his  clenched  hand,  and  opened  the 
door  for  her. 

"  I  never,  never  thought,"  said  Miss  Easter,  "  that 
you  and  I  would  ever  share  a  secret,  Sir  Julian !  I  used 
to  be  so  dreadfully  afraid  of  you  —  but  I  never  shall 
be  again !  " 

Watching  his  departing  confederate,  restored  once 
more  to  smiling  animation,  flutter  from  the  room, 
Julian  returned  to  his  seat  before  the  writing-table. 

"  For  a  man  who  professes  to  dislike  officious  inter- 
ference," he  reflected  ruefully,  "  I  am  the  recipient  of 
an  unfortunate  number  of  disastrous  confidences." 


XIV 

LADY  ROSSITER,  a  few  days  later,  put  on  a  compar- 
atively new  set  of  black  fox  furs,  which  helped  to  en- 
hance in  her  the  agreeable  conviction  of  being  in  a 
position  to  be  kind  to  those  less  fortunate  than  herself, 
and  drove  to  Culmouth  College. 

It  was  her  intention  to  put  the  matter  of  the  presenta- 
tion upon  a  sound  footing  without  delay,  and  she  had 
purposely  chosen  a  Saturday  afternoon  for  her  visit, 
knowing  that  the  College  would  be  almost  empty  and 
that  Fairfax  Fuller  was  generally  to  be  found  there 
alone  until  half -past  two  or  three  o'clock. 

The  Supervisor,  however  —  the  window  of  whose 
private  office  gazed  on  to  that  side  of  the  street  by 
which  the  College  was  approached  —  proved  strangely 
difficult  of  access. 

The  place  seemed  almost  deserted,  but  Lady  Rossiter 
encountered  downstairs  the  small  and  precocious-look- 
ing student  of  shorthand  whom  she  and  Iris  had  re- 
marked at  the  speed  test. 

"Do  you  know  if  Mr.  Fuller  is  here,  little  boy?  " 
she  enquired  of  him,  with  that  extra  distinct  enuncia- 
tion by  which  so  many  people  indicate  their  conscious- 
ness of  addressing  a  social  inferior,  but  also  with  a 
very  agreeable  smile. 

Edna  believed  much  in  the  power  of  a  smile,  and 
sometimes  quoted  a  few  lines  of  those  popular  verses, 
"  Just  by  smiling." 

"  Ay,"  said  the  little  boy. 

179 


i8o  TENSION 

"  Will  you  go  and  tell  him  that  a  lady  would  like  to 
see  him?"  said  Edna,  who  did  not  think  the  youth 
capable  of  reporting  her  name  correctly. 

"  Ay." 

The  messenger  departed,  whistling  shrilly,  and  pres- 
ently returned  grinning  broadly. 

"  Mr.  Fuller,  he's  so  busy  as  ever  he  can  be.  Could 
you  give  a  message,  like?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  not,"  said  Edna,  suave  but  firm.  "  Tell 
him  it's  Lady  Rossiter." 

"  I  told  him  that,"  said  the  youth,  looking  still  more 
amused. 

Edna  began  to  feel  that  the  value  of  smiles  might 
be  overrated. 

"  Thank  you.  I'd  better  go  myself.  I'm  so  much 
obliged  to  you." 

She  nodded  at  the  little  boy  rather  distantly  and 
went  herself  to  knock  at  the  closed  door  of  Mr.  Fuller's 
office. 

A  voice  within  uttered  a  short,  sharp  ejaculation 
which  Lady  Rossiter,  with  an  optimism  that  did  more 
credit  to  her  imagination  than  to  her  common-sense, 
interpreted  to  mean,  "  Come  in !  " 

The  room  she  entered  was  thick  with  the  smoke  and 
odour  of  the  peculiarly  rank  tobacco  affected  by  Mr. 
Fairfax  Fuller,  and  in  spite  of  an  open  window,  a  haze 
of  blue  fumes  hung  over  the  table  at  which  he  sat,  his 
head  thrust  aggressively  forward  and  his  elbows 
squared. 

Few  things  could  have  been  less  expressive  of  wel- 
come than  his  unsmiling  "  Good  afternoon,"  as  he  rose 
to  his  feet  and  laid  his  cherry-wood  pipe  upon  the  table. 

"  Don't  stop  smoking,   I'm  quite  used  to  it,"  said 


TENSION  181 

Lady  Rossiter,  gasping  a  little.  "  Are  you  very 
busy?" 

"  Yes,  very,"  said  Mr.  Fuller  uncompromisingly. 

"  Then  I  mustn't  keep  you,"  his  visitor  smilingly  ob- 
served. "  May  I  sit  down?  " 

Fuller  moved  a  chair  about  two  inches  in  her  direc- 
tion and  pushed  into  prominence  the  broad  leather  strap 
and  silver  watch  on  his  hairy  and  powerful  wrist. 

Lady  Rossiter  affected  not  to  observe  this  gesture, 
which  she  preferred  to  attribute  to  the  awkwardness 
of  embarrassment  rather  than  to  any  want  of  cor- 
diality. 

"And  is  all  well  with  our  College?"  she  enquired 
brightly,  and  casting  a  friendly  glance  at  the  papers  on 
the  table,  all  of  which  Mr.  Fuller  immediately  thrust 
into  the  nearest  pigeon-hole. 

"  The  College  is  all  right." 

"  That's  good.  You  know  it's  very  near  my  heart. 
I  shall  never  forget  how  we've  seen  it  grow  from  the 
very  start,  and  the  interest  one's  had  in  every  member 
of  the  staff.  I'm  sure  you're  like  me,  Mr.  Fuller,  and 
care  a  great  deal  about  the  human  element." 

Edna  paused,  but  the  sympathetic  response  which 
might  reasonably  have  been  expected  was  not  forth- 
coming. 

"  We've  been  so  like  a  little  family  party  here,  I 
always  think  —  especially  those  of  us  who  saw  the  very 
beginning  of  all  things.  Let  me  see,  I  think  you  and 
I  and  Sir  Julian,  and  of  course  Mr.  Easter,  are  the  only 
ones  left  of  the  original  committee,  aren't  we?  Oh, 
and  the  old  Alderman." 

Fuller  emitted  a  sound  that  might  conceivably  pass 
for  a  rejoinder. 


1 82  TENSION 

"  They're  all  so  pleased  about  Miss  Easter's  en- 
gagement —  a  wedding  is  always  an  excitement,  isn't 
it?  Have  they,"  said  Edna,  momentarily  thoughtless, 
"  have  they  told  you  of  their  little  scheme  for  making 
her  a  presentation  ?  " 

"  As  I  happen  to  be  Supervisor  of  the  staff,  they 
naturally  came  to  me  in  the  first  place,  Lady  Rossiter." 

"  Of  course  they  did.  How  stupid  of  me !  One 
forgets  all  the  grades  and  distinctions,  there  are  so 
many  of  them  now.  But  it  was  really  about  the  pres- 
entation plans  that  I  wanted  to  talk  to  you." 

She  waited  in  vain  for  some  assurance  that  the  wish 
had  been  in  any  way  mutual. 

"  I  felt  sure  that  you  and  I  would  understand  one 
another,"  said  Edna,  almost  pleadingly,  "if  we  had  a 
little  talk  together." 

Silence. 

Lady  Rossiter  could  no  longer  disguise  from  herself 
that  the  little  talk,  if  it  was  to  take  place  at  all,  must  do 
so  in  the  form  of  an  unsupported  monologue.  She 
began  courageously : 

"  I  like  the  idea,  you  know,  and  I  think  it  will  touch 
and  gratify  Miss  Easter  and  her  brother  very  much  in- 
deed. Only  these  schemes  are  always  the  better  for 
tactful  handling,  don't  you  agree  with  me?  We  don't 
want  any  little  awkwardnesses.  And  I'm  not  quite 
sure  that  I  think  the  suggestion  of  having  the  presenta- 
tion made  by  poor  Miss  Marchrose  was  a  very  wise 
one.  Now,  Mr.  Fuller,  I  know  I  can  speak  to  you  in 
confidence,  and  I'm  going  to  say  something  that  I 
should  never  dream  of  saying  to  any  other  member  of 
the  staff.  I  am  sorry  to  tell  you  that  there  are  reasons 
—  I  needn't  go  into  them,  they  are  very  painful  ones 


TENSION  183 

—  why  Miss  Marchrose  should  not  be  selected  to  offer 
this  little  present  to  a  young  and  innocent  girl  on  behalf 
of  the  staff.  I  know  I  need  not  go  into  details." 

Fuller  stared  at  Lady  Rossiter  with  dark,  smoulder- 
ing eyes. 

"  I'm  perfectly  satisfied  with  Miss  Marchrose's  be- 
haviour since  she's  been  here,"  he  growled  at  last. 

Up  went  Edna's  eyebrows,  all  too  expressively. 
"  That's  as  it  may  be,  Mr.  Fuller.  A  woman  is  some- 
times a  good  deal  more  clear-sighted  than  a  man,  in 
certain  matters.  But  I  happen  to  have  heard  a  good 
deal  about  Miss  Marchrose  before  she  came  here  at 
all,  and  as  a  member  of  the  General  Committee,  and 
also  of  Mr.  Cooper's  little  committee  for  the  pres- 
entation, I  may  tell  you  that  I  very  decidedly  veto 
any  suggestion  of  letting  her  represent  the  staff  of 
this  College." 

The  Supervisor  looked  her  full  in  the  eyes. 

"  Are  you  telling  me,  Lady  Rossiter,  that  that  girl 
isn't  straight?" 

Edna's  opaque  white  skin,  that  seldom  registered  al- 
teration, coloured  faintly. 

"  Mr.  Fuller,  God  forbid  that  I  should  condemn  any 
woman  unheard.  I  won't  pretend  not  to  know  what 
you  mean." 

"  I  can  put  it  plainer  if  you  like/'  Fuller  retor  *L 
"  But  I  want  yes  or  no,  Lady  Rossiter." 

"  Then,"  said  Edna  with  dignity,  "  as  far  as  I  I  " 
tell,  no." 

"  I  should  damned  well  think  not,"  exploded  Fair'f 
Fuller,  without  a  trace  of  apology.     "  I  take  my  ordi 
from  Sir  Julian  Rossiter,  and  until  he's  lost  confideo 
in  me,  I  run  this  staff  the  way  I  think  best.     Yoi 


1 84  TENSION 

excuse  me,  Lady  Rossiter,  if  I  say  that  I  think  we've 
discussed  the  matter  long  enough." 

Edna  stood  up,  more  angry  than  she  had  ever  allowed 
herself  to  be  since  the  days  of  her  girlhood. 

'  You  forget  yourself  altogether,  Mr.  Fuller,  and  I 
feel  certain  that  you  will  be  the  first  person  to  realise 
that  an  apology  is  due  to  me  when  you  are  yourself 
again." 

For  all  answer,  Fuller  opened  the  door  and  banged 
it  to  again  almost  before  she  had  crossed  the  threshold. 

Lady  Rossiter,  in  the  hall  outside,  found  her  knees 
shaking  under  her  in  a  manner  hitherto  unknown  to 
her.  Fairfax  Fuller's  temper,  displayed  after  the 
fashion  of  his  kind,  was  a  return  to  nature  of  which 
she  had  never  before  had  experience.  Not  devoid  of 
an  instinctive  reluctance  to  being  found,  shaken  and 
agitated,  in  the  College  which  had  only  been  allowed  to 
see  her  as  a  serene  visiting  goddess,  Edna  almost  fur- 
tively made  her  way  upstairs  in  search  of  an  empty 
classroom  in  which  to  calm  herself. 

A  general  quiet  pervaded  the  upper  floor  of  the 
building;  the  smell  of  soap  and  water  upon  newly- 
scrubbed  boards  proclaimed  the  recent  presence  of  the 
usual  Saturday  afternoon  charwoman.  Lady  Rossiter, 
still  shaking,  felt  the  imperative  need  of  a  champion, 
and  murmured  something  indignant  to  herself  about  a 
woman  alone,  which  was  shortly  afterwards  disproved 
by  p.  distant  and  subdued  sound  of  unceasing  voices. 
Edtia  reflected  that  even  young  Cooper  might  be  of 
sola'ce,  and  was  also  not  averse  from  seizing  the  oppor- 
tunity of  disclaiming  all  further  connection  with  the 
presentation  of  Iris'  wedding-present. 

phe  rose  wearily,  crossing  the  lobby  in  search  of  the 


TENSION  185 

just-audible  voice  that  she  judged  to  come  from  the 
smallest  and  most  remote  classroom.  The  door  was 
shut,  but  through  the  upper  panels  of  glass  Lady  Ros- 
siter  was  only  too  well  enabled  to  perceive  that  which 
struck  fresh  dismay  to  her  mind. 

Miss  Marchrose  was  sitting  at  a  small  table  in  the 
window,  her  back  to  the  door,  her  head  bent,  and  her 
hands  idle  in  her  lap.  Beside  her  sat  Mark  Easter,  his 
voice  still  audible,  and  in  front  of  him  a  disordered  pile 
of  papers  at  which  he  made  no  pretence  of  looking. 

Lady  Rossiter  drew  back  almost  upon  the  instant, 
but  she  had  seen  that  he  was  speaking  much  more  earn- 
estly than  was  usual  with  him. 

From  sheer  desire  to  gain  time  in  which  to  consider 
these  unwelcome  phenomena,  Edna  retreated  once  more 
to  the  room  across  the  landing. 

She  remained  there  in  thought  for  nearly  twenty 
minutes,  subconsciously  aware  that  the  murmur  of 
those  two  voices  went  on  almost  without  intermission 
the  while. 

The  noise  as  of  heavily-nailed  boots  galloping  up  the 
uncarpeted  stairs  came  to  distract  her,  and  the  little  boy 
whom  she  had  seen  earlier  in  the  afternoon  burst  into 
the  room. 

"  Were  you  looking  for  me  ? "  Lady  Rossiter  en- 
quired rather  severely. 

"  Mr.  Fuller  axed  me  if  you  were  here  still." 

"  It's  almost  time  for  my  car  to  call  for  me,"  Edna 
said  with  dignity.  "  I  am  just  coming  down." 

She  had  entirely  regained  her  usual  poise,  and  faced 
Fairfax  Fuller,  who  stood  at  the  open  door  of  his 
room,  obviously  awaiting  her,  with  perfect  compo- 
sure. 


1 86  TENSION 

The  Supervisor  looked  very  much  heated,  but  spoke 
with  grim  formality. 

"  I  must  apologise  for  the  expression  I  used  to  you 
just  now,  Lady  Rossiter." 

Edna  looked  at  him  for  a  moment,  and  then  let  the 
wide  charity  of  her  slowly-dawning  smile  envelop  his 
very  patent  anger  and  confusion. 

"  But  that's  quite  enough !  Perhaps  we  both  grew 
rather  excited;  but  after  all,  the  best  of  friends  must 
have  their  little  quarrels.  I  am  more  than  ready  to 
forget." 

"  Say  no  more  about  it,"  muttered  Fuller,  obviously 
under  the  impression  that  he  was  gracefully  bringing 
matters  to  a  conclusion. 

"  Ah,  but  one  word  more  I  must  say,"  Edna  inter- 
posed quickly.  "  You  know,  I'm  afraid  I  must  hold 
quite,  quite  firm  about  the  presentation.  Or  perhaps 
I  had  better  tell  Mr.  Cooper  that,  much  as  I  appreciate 
having  been  consulted,  I  prefer  to  withdraw  from  his 
committee." 

Fuller's  bulldog  jaw  was  set  hard. 

"  That's  as  you  like,  of  course." 

If  Edna  had  not  expected  such  a  rejoinder,  the 
tremor  with  which  she  received  it  was  all  but  imper- 
ceptible. 

"  I'm  sorry  we  don't  see  things  in  the  same  light," 
she  said  sweetly,  "  and  I  can't  tell  you  how  heartily 
glad  I  should  be  to  find  myself  in  the  wrong  about  poor 
Miss  Marchrose." 

She  hesitated  for  a  moment,  but  neither  the  voice 
nor  the  expression  of  Mr.  Fairfax  Fuller  appeared  to 
denote  any  readiness  to  resume  a  discussion  previously 
so  much  fraught  with  verbal  disaster.  So  Edna,  al- 


TENSION  187 

most  hearing  herself  pause  to  think,  "  Is  it  kind,  is  it 
wise,  is  it  true?  "  said,  "  Good  afternoon,  Mr.  Fuller," 
with  perfect  cordiality,  and  descended  the  stairs,  un- 
escorted by  the  Supervisor. 

On  the  doorstep  she  encountered  old  Alderman  Bel- 
lew,  who  greeted  her  with  the  more  cordiality  that  he 
had  expected  to  find  Sir  Julian,  of  whom  he  was  rather 
afraid. 

"  Seeing  the  car  outside,  I  thought  Sir  Julian  might 
have  run  in  for  a  moment  on  business,  and  I  was 
anxious  to  see  him.  But  it'll  keep  —  it'll  very  well 
keep.  I've  had  a  little  walk  for  nothing,  that's  all,  and 
it  won't  do  me  any  harm." 

The  obese  old  man  was  panting. 

"  May  I  give  you  a  lift  anywhere?  I  always  think 
that's  the  best  of  a  car  —  one  can  be  of  use  to  people 
who  haven't  got  one." 

"  Well,  I  declare  that's  very  kind  of  you.  Would 
the  Council  House  be  out  of  your  way?  " 

"  Not  at  all." 

The  Alderman  dropped  thankfully  on  to  the  com- 
fortable seat  offered  him. 

"  Did  you  want  to  see  my  husband?  "  Edna  sweetly 
enquired,  not  devoid  of  curiosity. 

"  Only  on  a  little  matter  of  business  connected  with 
the  College.  It  came  into  my  mind  that  I  could  get  a 
word  with  him  when  I  saw  the  car  outside  the  door. 
But  I  daresay  I  shall  see  him  next  week  —  or  I  can 
drop  him  a  line." 

"  Even  Julian,"  said  Lady  Rossiter  intentionally, 
11  is  hardly  more  interested  in  our  College  than  I  am. 
You  know  how  I've  followed  its  career  from  the  very 
beginning  and  always  kept  in  the  closest  possible  touch 


i88  TENSION 

with  the  members  of  the  staff.  And  I  needn't  tell  you 
that  I've  never  yet  missed  a  General  Committee  meet- 
ing." 

"  Have  you  not,  indeed!  "  responded  the  Alderman, 
obviously  debating  in  his  own  mind  whether  or  not  he 
should  take  Lady  Rossiter  into  his  further  confidence 
with  regard  to  the  affairs  of  Culmouth  College. 

She  maintained  a  tactful  silence. 

"  The  fact  is,  Lady  Rossiter,  that  a  suggestion  has 
been  made  —  this  is  quite  confidential,  you  understand 
—  for  opening  a  new  branch  of  the  College.  They're 
asking  for  something  of  the  same  kind  in  Gloucester- 
shire, and  it  appears  that  the  municipal  authorities  are 
ready  enough  to  guarantee  the  funds.  I  have  a  very 
gratifying  letter,  which  I  want  your  husband  to  see, 
speaking  in  most  complimentary  terms  of  our  little 
show  here.  Of  course,  it's  quite  understood  to  be  more 
or  less  run  on  philanthropic  lines.  That  chap  Fuller 
has  done  marvels,  and  actually  achieved  a  balance  on 
the  right  side,  but  the  concern  isn't  primarily  meant  to 
be  a  paying  one,  as  I  needn't  tell  you." 

"  No,  indeed.  One's  idea  was  to  fit  the  wage-earners 
rather  more  for  their  task  —  to  help  the  inhabitants 
of  our  little  corner  of  the  Empire  to  help  themselves." 

"  Quite  so.  And  apparently  the  fame  of  our  little 
enterprise  has  spread,"  said  the  old  man,  with  great 
satisfaction.  "  They  actually  want  me  to  send  a  repre- 
sentative to  look  at  the  buildings  they  have  in  view,  and 
put  things  in  train  a  bit.  Rather  gratifying  for  little 
Culmouth,  eh  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed." 

"Of  course,  it  all  depends  on  Sir  Julian's  consent  — 


TENSION  189 

naturally,  that's  an  understood  thing.  After  all  he's 
done  for  us,  and  his  position  and  all." 

"  I  am  quite  sure  you  may  count  upon  him,"  said 
Edna  graciously.  "  He  will  appreciate  the  compliment 
to  our  small  experiment  as  much  as  I  do." 

If  the  good  Alderman  felt  slightly  puzzled  at  the 
extremely  proprietary  attitude  adopted  by  his  listener, 
he  knew  better  than  to  give  any  sign  of  it. 

"  There'll  be  great  excitement  amongst  the  staff,"  he 
said.  "  But,  of  course,  they'll  know  nothing  about  it 
for  the  present." 

"  There's  something  rather  unsettled  about  the  staff 
just  now,"  Edna  thoughtfully  rejoined.  "  You  know 
how  things  can  be  felt  in  the  air  sometimes,  and  I've 
fancied  rather  an  absence  of  our  usual  esprit  de  corps 
lately.  I  haven't  quite  known  what  to  attribute  it 
to- 

Being  at  all  events  perfectly  well  aware  of  what  she 
was  going  to  attribute  it  to  now,  Lady  Rossiter  only 
paused  long  enough  to  make  sure  that  the  Alderman, 
listening  open-mouthed,  had  no  theory  to  put  forward. 

"  May  I  speak  quite  frankly,  and  in  confidence?  " 

"  Of  course,  of  course." 

"  It's  a  thing  that's  rather  difficult  to  speak  of  at 
all,  but,  of  course,  you  know  Mr.  Easter's  circum- 
stances as  well  as  I  do.  He  is  a  married  man." 

Alderman  Bellew,  looking  more  astounded  than  ever, 
gave  a  breathless  nod  of  assent. 

"  And  also,"  said  Edna,  smiling  a  little,  "  he  hap- 
pens to  be  an  extremely  attractive  person.  Conse- 
quently, when  a  young  —  a  fairly  young  —  woman 
spends  her  Saturday  afternoons  typing  at  the  estate  of- 


190  TENSION 

fke,  and  then  has  herself  escorted  home  afterwards, 
and  keeps  all  her  civility,  and  all  her  smiles,  and  all 
her  conversation,  for  one  particular  person  —  well,  one 
is  inclined  to  wonder  a  little,  that's  all." 

"  Bless  my  soul !  "  ejaculated  the  astonished  Alder- 
man. 

Edna  suddenly  became  grave. 

;<  You  understand  that  I'm  not,  for  one  single  in- 
stant, hinting  at  any  sort  or  kind  of  —  of  understand- 
ing or  flirtation  between  them.  I  know  Mark,  I  sup- 
pose, better  than  anybody  else  on  earth  knows  him,  and 
I  trust  him  absolutely.  But  I  needn't  tell  you  —  a 
man  is  a  man." 

"Of  course,"  said  the  Alderman  portentously,  as  one 
resolved  to  rise  to  the  occasion,  "  we  really  know  very 
little  about  her.  I  suppose  you  mean  the  Lady  Super- 
intendent?" 

"  Yes,  poor  Miss  Marchrose.  Don't  think  that  I 
would  willingly  say  an  unkind  word  about  her,  for 
indeed  I  could  never  cast  the  first  stone.  But  I've  been 
uneasy  for  some  time,  and  this  afternoon  it  gave  me  a 
little  shock  to  see  something  —  oh,  never  mind  what ! 
A  straw  very  often  shows  which  way  the  wind  blpws." 

Having  by  this  reticence  left  the  simple-minded  Al- 
derman to  infer  the  existence  of  a  whole  truss  of  straw 
at  the  very  least,  Lady  Rossiter  leant  back  and  closed 
her  eyes,  as  though  in  weary  retrospect. 

"  It  would  never  do  to  have  talk  of  that  kind  going 
about,  Lady  Rossiter.  Demoralise  the  staff  in  a  mo- 
ment, you  know.  I  remember  rather  a  similar  case, 
years  ago,  in  the  big  insurance  office  where  I  started 
life.  One  of  the  partners  played  the  fool  —  nothing 
wrong,  you  know,  but  there  was  a  pretty  typist,  and  he 


TENSION  191 

was  for  ever  sending  for  her  to  take  down  letters,  and 
the  others  got  talking  —  you  can  guess  the  sort  of 
thing.  The  girl  had  to  get  the  sack,  of  course." 

The  matter-of-factness  of  this  conclusion  was  against 
all  Lady  Rossiter's  avowed  principles  of  championship 
of  her  sex,  and  consistency  would  not  allow  her  to  as- 
sent. But  she  gave  a  heavy  sigh,  and  said : 

"  I  know  the  sort  of  thing  you  mean,  and  gossip 
spreads  so  easily  in  a  little  community  like  ours.  I 
can't  help  knowing,  either,  that  one  or  two  people  have 
already  noticed  the  way  in  which  Miss  Marchrose  be- 
haves." 

"  Oh,  well,  you  know,"  leniently  remarked  the  old 
man,  "  it  may  not  be  altogether  her  doing.  Easter  has 
no  business  to  forget  he's  a  married  man." 

"  I  am  afraid,"  Edna  answered  with  reserve,  "  that  I 
know  one  or  two  things  about  Miss  Marchrose  which 
go  to  show  that  she  is  not  exactly  an  inexperienced 
person.  Besides,  women  have  very  strong  instincts 
sometimes,  and  get  to  know  a  good  deal  by  intuition. 
I  will  tell  you  perfectly  honestly,  Mr.  Bellew,  that  I've 
never  altogether  trusted  her,  although  it  seems  a  hard 
thing  to  say." 

Perhaps  the  Alderman  was  somewhat  of  the  same 
opinion. 

"  What  does  Sir  Julian  think?  " 

"  He  has  comparatively  few  opportunities  of  judg- 
ing; and  besides,  I  haven't  really  discussed  the  matter 
with  him.  One  does  dislike  anything  of  that  sort  so 
intensely,  it's  very  difficult  sometimes  to  speak  of  it." 

:<  Yes,  yes,  Lady  Rossiter  —  of  course.  But  you 
mustn't  distress  yourself,  on  any  account.  That  would 
never  do.  You  know,  the  girl  can  go." 


192  TENSION 

Edna  was  sincerely  horrified  at  this  ruthless  cutting 
of  the  Gordian  knot. 

"  Oh,  but  it's  her  livelihood !  We  could  hardly  turn 
her  away  like  that,  unless  there  was  anything  definite. 
There  should  always  be  infinite  piti fulness,  to  my  mind. 
Mine  is  only  a  humble  little  creed,  but  that's  the  key- 
note of  it  all.  Long-suffering.  Sometimes  a  woman 
can  do  more  than  a  man  in  such  cases.  Much  as  one 
would  dislike  it,  perhaps  one  might  say  a  word  or  two/' 

"  Well,  well,  it's  very  good  of  you,  I'm  sure.  The 
poor  thing  may  be  in  a  false  position  altogether,"  said 
the  Alderman,  with  more  compassion  than  Edna,  in 
spite  of  her  creed,  thought  altogether  called  for  by  the 
possible  plight  of  the  Lady  Superintendent. 

"  I  know  I  can  rely  on  you  to  keep  all  this  to  your- 
self absolutely.  Perhaps  I  ought  hardly  to  have 
spoken,  but  it  gave  me  a  great  shock  this  afternoon. 
However,  we  needn't  go  into  that.  There  is  really 
nothing  to  be  done,  except  to  be  very  much  on  one's 
guard  as  to  possible  gossip  amongst  the  staff," 

"  We  must  await  developments,"  said  the  Alderman 
solemnly. 

On  this  noncommittal  cliche,  he  thanked  Lady  Ros- 
siter  very  much  for  having  brought  him  to  the  steps 
of  the  Council  House,  and  ponderously  ascended  them, 
still  evidently  full  of  thought  as  to  her  hinted  revela- 
tions. 

Edna,  deeply  reflective,  was  motored  back  to  Culm- 
hay  es.  The  question  of  the  presentation  had  almost 
been  driven  from  her  mind  by  the  preoccupation  en- 
gendered at  the  sight  of  Mark  Easter  and  Miss  March- 
rose  in  their  companionable  solitude.  Her  suspicions, 


TENSION  193 

already  stirring,  were  now  in  a  lively  state  of  activity, 
and  her  feelings  divided  between  an  unconscious  satis- 
faction in  having  been  proved  a  true  prophet  and  a 
very  real  apprehension  as  to  the  condition  of  Mark 
Easter's  affections.  She  remained,  however,  carefully 
compassionate  in  her  thoughts  of  the  chief  culprit,  and 
was  resolved  that  no  impetuosity  of  Alderman  Bellew's 
should  summarily  deprive  Miss  Marchrose  of  a  good 
post,  and  incidentally  provide  her  with  a  grievance. 

Edna's  appeal  to  the  Alderman  had  been  as  nearly 
impulsive  as  any  utterance  of  hers  ever  could  be.  She 
had  chosen  her  words  —  as  she  always  did  —  but  the 
instinct  that  had  moved  her  to  speak  at  all  was  the  age- 
old  and  overmastering  desire  of  drawing  attention  in- 
stantly to  the  failure  of  a  fellow-creature  in  subscrib- 
ing to  the  recognised  code. 

She  consecrated  several  grave  moments  of  thought 
to  the  situation,  which  she  mentally  qualified  as  a 
problem,  although  she  would  have  been  puzzled  to  de- 
fine the  exact  necessity  for  a  solution. 

In  her  own  room,  Lady  Rossiter  became  still  further 
conscious  of  the  disturbed  state  of  her  spirits. 

She  rang  for  her  maid. 

"  Shall  I  take  your  furs,  m'lady?  " 

Edna  parted  with  her  last  shred  of  calm,  in  some 
mysterious  fashion,  when  the  comfortable  and  emi- 
nently becoming  weight  was  lifted  from  her  shoulders. 

"  I  am  very  tired,  Mason,"  she  remarked  patiently. 

"Yes,  m'lady?  It's  rather  tiring  weather,"  said 
Mason  woodenly. 

"  I  don't  know  about  that.  But  when  one  thinks 
a  great  deal  about  other  people  —  their  weakness  and 


194  TENSION 

ingratitude  and  folly — it  seems  to  wear  one  out, 
somehow." 

"  I've  mended  the  blue  tea-gown,  m'lady.  Shall  I 
put  it  out?  " 

"  No,"  said  Edna,  with  most  unwonted  sharpness. 

It  seemed  to  her  that  Mason  was  a  woman  on  whom 
it  was  extraordinarily  difficult  to  make  any  impression. 
Edna  sedulously  "  took  an  interest  "  in  all  her  servants, 
and  made  a  point  of  lending  books  to  her  own  maid, 
but  never  had  she  met  with  one  less  responsive  to  her 
influence. 

She  compressed  her  lips  slightly,  and  made  the  small, 
collected  pause  with  which  it  was  her  custom  to  coun- 
ter such  rare  tendencies  to  irritability  as  she  ever  ex- 
perienced. 

The  instant's  recollection  was  followed,  as  always, 
by  a  flow  of  larger,  more  serene  charity,  enveloping 
successfully  even  the  recalcitrant  Mason. 

"  I  hope  you  have  a  nice  book  for  Sunday,  Mason. 
I  know  it's  your  great  day  for  reading." 

"  Yes,  thank  you,  m'lady." 

Lady  Rossiter's  thoughts  dwelt  tenderly  on  those 
copies  of  Rtiskin  and  Stevenson,  in  the  rather  cheaper 
editions,  which  she  kept  for  purposes  of  lending.  She 
had  drawn  attention  to  several  passages  in  them  by 
faint  scorings  in  pencil. 

"Well,  and  which  is  it?" 

Mason  looked  blanker  than  ever. 

"  What,  m'lady  ?  " 

"  Which  book  are  you  reading,  Mason?  " 

The  silence  that  ensued  might,  from  Mason's  expres- 
sion, have  been  construed  as  one  both  sulky  and  resent- 
ful, but  Edna  waited  with  implacable  sunniness. 


TENSION  195 

Finally  the  maid,  opening  the  door  for  her  mistress, 
replied  in  a  vicious  manner: 

"  Well,  m'lady,  at  the  present,  I'm  reading  a  sweetly 
pretty  story  called  '  East  Lynne.' ' 


XV 

THE  activities  of  Lady  Rossiter  did  not  altogether 
cease  at  her  conversation  with  Alderman  Bellew. 

She  spoke  to  Miss  Farmer,  at  the  back  of  her  mind 
the  conviction  that  Miss  Farmer  would  think  it  due  to 
the  other  members  of  the  College  staff  to  ascertain 
whether  their  attention  had  yet  been  focussed  upon  the 
incipient  scandal  in  their  midst. 

She  made  tentative  beginning: 

[<  You  will  reassure  me,  Miss  Farmer,  and  I  can't 
tell  you  how  glad  I  shall  be.  It  is  my  fancy,  isn't  it, 
that  there  is  —  what  shall  I  call  it  ?  —  something  that 
rather  disturbs  —  in  the  atmosphere?  " 

"  The — College,  do  you  mean,  Lady  Rossiter?" 
Miss  Farmer  spoke  confusedly,  evidently  quite  unde- 
cided in  her  mind  as  to  Lady  Rossiter's  meaning,  and 
anxious  not  to  commit  herself  until  she  had  ascer- 
tained it. 

"  Ah,  then  you  do  know.  I'm  sorry,"  spoke  Edna 
gravely.  "  One  condemns  no  one  —  that's  under- 
stood, of  course.  But  you,  who  are  working  there  all 
day  and  every  day  —  you  must  know  better  than  any- 
one how  far  it's  all  gone.  I  mean  nothing  that  can't 
be  spoken  —  oh,  yes,  you  know  —  after  all,  we're  both 
women.  But  there's  the  staff  to  think  of  —  my  staff 
that  I'm  proud  of,  and  care  for.  Tell  me,  do  they 
talk  about  Miss  Marchrose  and  this  insane  infatuation 
of  hers?" 

196 


TENSION  197 

"  No  —  no,  I  don't  think  so  —  I  hardly  know  .  .  ." 
hesitated  Miss  Farmer,  very  red,  and  obviously  feeling 
her  way. 

"  Thank  God  for  that !  "  Lady  Rossiter  piously  in- 
terjected. "You  understand  what  I  mean?  It's  not 
that  I,  of  all  people,  who  know  Mark  Easter  intimately, 
could  ever  underrate  the  fact  that  he  is  an  unusually 
attractive  man.  But  then,  you  see  —  Mark  is  married. 
It's  so  simple,  isn't  it,  to  those  of  us  who  can  see 
straight?  There  is  just  that  choice  —  right  or  wrong 
—  and  one's  chosen  one's  path  long,  long  ago.  But 
this  poor  girl  in  whom  we're  interested,  whom  one 
longs,  oh,  so  pitifully  and  tenderly  —  to  help.  You 
see,  I'm  afraid  that  her  ideals  are  poor,  dwarfed, 
stunted  things.  She  is  very  foolish,  undignified  and 
unwomanly,  but  I  pray  and  I  believe  —  I  try  with  all 
my  heart  to  believe  —  that  it  is  just  that  —  because 
she  knows  no  better.  Only,  Miss  Farmer  —  don't  let 
them  talk  at  the  College.  I  know  it's  very  easy  —  a 
little  staying  on  after  hours,  an  excuse  or  two  for  going 
into  Mr.  Easter's  office,  a  hundred-and-one  indiscre- 
tions of  that  kind  —  and  the  mischief's  done/' 

"  Oh,  Lady  Rossiter !  but  really,  excuse  me  if  I  say 
that  I  hardly  think  - 

Edna  swept  on,  sweeping  with  her  the  bewildered 
and  embarrassed  protests  trembling  on  Miss  Farmer's 
lips. 

"  No  one  could  ever  fear  harsh  judgments  from  you, 
Miss  Farmer.  I  know  that,  and  that's  why  I've  spoken 
to  you.  And  because  I  want  you  to  try  and  prevent 
others  from  judging  and  condemning  unheard.  .  .  . 
There'll  be  talk  —  oh,  I  know  human  nature,  and  that 
it's  impossible  for  things  to  be  otherwise  —  but  at  least 


198  TENSION 

I  may  count  upon  you  for  stemming  the  tide  a  little, 
until  the  way  is  rather  clearer.  Believe  me,  there  will 
be  a  crisis  —  a  solution  of  some  sort  will  come.  I 
know  that  the  present  state  of  tension  can't  last." 

It  may  reasonably  be  conceded  that  Lady  Rossiter 
had  ample  cause  for  the  assertion. 

She  sent  Miss  Farmer  away,  muddle  and  incohe- 
rency  on  her  inarticulate  tongue,  and  in  her  starting 
eyes  fears  visible  for  all  to  see. 

Edna  thought  of  Mark  Easter,  and  asked  herself 
whether  one  word  from  her  might  not  save  Mark  from 
endless  vexation  and  discomfort  when  the  inevitable 
debacle  should  come  upon  the  impossible  situation. 
She  had  for  too  long  been  accustomed  to  look  upon  her- 
self as  the  only  feminine  element  in  Mark's  mutilated 
life,  to  entertain  on  his  behalf  fears  of  a  more  serious 
kind. 

But  Mark  was  thinking  of  his  sister's  wedding  and 
of  her  many,  and  essentially  unreasonable,  attempts 
to  turn  his  small  house  into  a  scene  of  extensive  and 
prolonged  hospitalities  for  which  it  was  eminently  un- 
fitted in  every  possible  way. 

Edna  postponed  the  utterance  of  her  one  word. 

She  only  offered,  very  gently  and  matter-of-factly, 
to  enact  the  part  of  mistress  of  the  house  when  and 
whenever  her  services  might  be  acceptable.  Mark 
Easter  thanked  her  very  warmly  and  thought  that  he 
could  "  manage." 

That  the  process  of  "  managing  "  was  not  an  easy 
one  was  descried  shortly  before  the  wedding  by  Lady 
Rossiter  and  her  husband,  inadvertently  entering  the 
villa  and  finding  it  a  sea  of  frenzied  preparation. 

Aggressively  new  trunks  stood  in  the  small  entrance, 


TENSION  199 

effectively  blocking  the  staircase,  and  from  the  draw- 
ing-room door,  propped  open  by  a  piano-stool,  came 
the  sound  of  voices  raised  in  considerable  agitation. 

The  form  taken  by  the  bouleVerseinent  of  the  five 
occupiers  of  the  drawing-room  appeared  to  consist 
principally  in  their  each  and  all  having  taken  a  seat 
upon  some  pieces  of  furniture  not  primarily  intended 
to  be  sat  upon. 

Iris,  very  dishevelled,  was  perched  upon  the  piano ; 
her  fiance  bestrode  a  small  table;  Mark,  looking 
harassed,  sat  on  the  corner  of  the  lowest  bookcase  in 
the  room;  and  Ruthie  and  Ambrose,  their  respective 
boots  drumming  a  lively  quartette  against  the  wains- 
coting, disfigured  either  end  of  the  writing-table.  Iris 
turned  in  instant  appeal  to  the  entering  visitors. 

"  We're  simply  fearfully  worried,"  she  declared 
penetratingly.  "  Do  help  me  to  settle.  Oh,  do  sit 
down,  Lady  Rossiter !  " 

Edna  smilingly  selected  the  corner  of  the  sofa  least 
encumbered  by  cardboard  boxes  and  crumpled  tissue- 
paper. 

"  It's  old  Aunt  Anne.  We  don't  know  what  to  do 
about  having  her  at  the  wedding.  We  never,  never 
thought  she'd  want  to  come." 

"  She's  seventy-nine,"  said  Mark. 

"  And  perfectly  awful,"  moaned  Iris. 

"  One  had  hoped,  and  meant,  to  avoid  a  conventional 
gathering  of  relations  altogether,"  mournfully  inter- 
jected Mr.  Garrett's  deep  tones.  "  I  myself  have  had 
to  be  extraordinarily  careful.  We,  who  are  members 
of  the  Clan,  have  to  reckon  with  such  immense  feudal 
feeling  and  that  kind  of  thing  —  the  sort  of  old-time 
loyalty  one  hardly  sees  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  Bor- 


200  TENSION 

der  —  and  finally  we  decided  to  eliminate  all  but  the 
very  nearest.  The  dear  old  pater  is  going  to  represent 
the  family,  and  the  old  pipers  and  gillies  and  —  er  — 
dependents  generally." 

"  I  am  afraid  he  has  a  long,  cold  journey  before 
him,  then,  in  this  bitter  weather,"  said  Edna  civilly. 

"  The  pater  is  not  actually  in  dear  old  Scotland  at 
the  moment,"  said  Mr.  Garrett,  in  a  tone  of  reserve. 

"  But  Aunt  Anne !  "  wailed  Iris.  "  Will  you  believe 
it,  she's  written  to  ask  if  we're  expecting  her  here 
to-morrow  —  just  two  days  before  the  wedding.  And, 
of  course,  we're  not.  We  never  thought  of  her  coming 
at  all,  did  we,  Mark,  at  her  age?  " 

"  And  she's  only  sent  you  salt-cellars,  at  that,"  said 
Mark,  with  a  rueful  grin. 

"  We  should  be  delighted  to  receive  anyone  at 
Culmhayes  if  it's  a  question  of  room,"  began  Sir 
Julian,  in  voice  wherein  delight  was  not  the  most  prom- 
inent emotion  discernible. 

"  Thank  you,  Sir  Julian,  it's  most  awfully  good  of 
you.  But  it's  not  that.  Douglas'  father  will  insist  on 
going  to  the  hotel,  with  him,  so  we  shall  have  a  spare 
bed.  But  Aunt  Anne  wants  such  a  lot  of  looking 
after;  and  then  she'll  be  old-fashioned,  and  hate  every- 
thing and  disapprove  of  my  frock,  and  —  I  can't  bear 
it  if  she's  to  come  and  spoil  everything,"  said  Miss 
Easter,  in  an  outburst  of  passionate  resentment. 

"  My  dear,  what  can  it  matter  what  other  people 
think?  One  takes  one's  own  line,  without  hurting 
or  vexing  anyone  —  that,  never  —  but  just  quietly, 

without  wondering  what  others  may  say "  But 

Lady  Rossiter's  generalities  proved  of  no  avail  in 


TENSION  201 

soothing  Iris,  although  they  gave  Douglas  an  oppor- 
tunity for  uttering  a  small  effective  Gaelicism. 

"  Dinna  fash  yersel',  Iris,  as  we  Kelts  say  at  home." 

"  It's  all  very  well,  but  how  can  I  write  and  tell 
Aunt  Anne  not  to  come  —  that  we  aren't  expecting 
her?  It  would  look  as  though  we  didn't  want  her." 

The  truth  of  this  implication  appeared  in  such  bla- 
tant obviousness  to  at  least  three  of  Iris'  listeners  that 
none  of  them  spoke  a  word. 

At  last  Sir  Julian  said  drily: 

"  In  fact,  it's  one  of  those  disconcerting  situations 
that  look  exactly  what  they  really  are." 

"  And  one  wishes  they  didn't,"  concluded  Mark. 

"  The  modern  wedding,"  said  Mr.  Garrett  suddenly, 
"  I  look  upon  as  the  surviving  relic  of  a  barbarous  age. 
It  is  iniquitous  that  a  contract  between  two  private 
parties  should  be  made  the  excuse  for  a  public  display, 
an  incontinent  gathering  together  of  incongruous  mul- 
titudes, for  the  mere  purposes  of  gaping  and  staring. 
To  my  mind,  there  should  be  no  other  ceremony  than 
the  verbal  plighting  of  troth,  given  in  the  presence  of 
two  witnesses,  upon  the  bare,  open  heath " 

"  We  haven't  any  bare,  open  heaths  round  Cul- 
mouth,"  interposed  Julian  hastily. 

"  I  was  thinking  of  the  customs  in  my  ain  coun- 
tree,"  said  Mr.  Garrett  morosely. 

A  rather  blighted  silence  fell  upon  the  room. 

It  was  broken  by  the  wailing  voice  of  Ambrose, 
whom  everyone  had  forgotten. 

"Aren't  we  ever  going  to  have  tea?" 

"  Good  gracious,  I'd  forgotten  all  about  it ! "  cried 
Iris,  exaggeratedly  aghast.  "  Ruthie  darling,  do  go 


202  TENSION 

and  see  if  Sarah  can  let  us  have  tea  at  once.  We 
shall  be  seven." 

Sir  Julian  made  earnest  attempts  and  Lady  Rossi- 
ter  polite  feints,  at  leaving  the  villa  on  the  instant. 

'  You  ihust  stay,"  said  Iris  piteously,  "  because 
everything  is  so  awful  that  I  know  I'm  going  to  scream 
presently." 

On  this  inducement  or  another,  the  visitors  remained 
throughout  a  strange,  Passover  meal,  in  the  course 
of  which  Iris  leapt  up  and  wrote  and  destroyed  three 
successive  telegrams  alternately  telling  Aunt  Anne  that 
she  was  or  was  not  expected  on  the  following  day,  and 
Mr.  Garrett  discoursed  further  on  the  marriage  laws 
of  England,  regarded  by  him  with  the  extreme  of  dis- 
favour, and  the  children  took  advantage  of  their 
father's  usual  leniency  and  their  aunt's  roving  atten- 
tion, to  dispose  of  immense  quantities  of  cake  previ- 
ously smeared  with  jam. 

Edna,  remembering  the  quasi-maternal  role  adopted 
by  herself  towards  Ruthie,  fixed  a  look  of  grave  sur- 
prise upon  the  child  from  the  other  side  of  the  table. 

Ruthie  ate  on. 

Lady  Rossiter  deepened  the  look  and  sought  to  con- 
vey its  full  inner  meaning  by  dropping  a  pained  glance 
at  the  jam-laden  slab  in  Ruthie's  hand  and  then  raising 
her  eyebrows  and  slightly  contracting  the  corners  of 
her  mouth. 

These  signals  being  stolidly  disregarded,  there  only 
.remained  to  say,  in  very  gentle  accents : 

"  Are  you  always  allowed  cake  and  jam  together, 
dear?" 

"  Always,"  said  Ruthie,  with  a  face  of  brass,  and 
in  her  voice  an  intensity  of  assurance  that  conveyed 


TENSION  203 

with  certainty,  to  anyone  as  well  conversant  as  was 
Lady  Rossiter  with  the  extremely  low  standard  of 
truth  prevailing  in  the  Easter  nursery  establishment, 
that  she  was  lying. 

Edna  turned  her  gaze  upon  Ambrose. 

His  face  already  bore  the  peculiarly  glazed  and  pallid 
look  that  characterises  over-eating,  but  on  meeting 
Lady  Rossiter's  eye  he  made  a  mighty  effort  to  cram 
his  remaining  cake  into  an  already  bulging  cheek. 

"You'll  choke,  Peekaboo,"  warned  Ruthie,  with 
only  too  much  reason. 

Thereafter  the  conversation  was  adjusted  to  the  ac- 
companiment of  the  exceedingly  distressing  sounds 
proceeding  intermittently  from  Ambrose. 

"  Dear,  dear  —  a  crumb  gone  the  wrong  way?  "  said 
the  unobservant  Iris.  "  You'll  be  better  in  a  minute, 
dear." 

"  I  choked "  began  Ambrose  wheezingly,  obedi- 
ent to  the  unwritten  law  which  decrees  that  the  victim 
of  a  choking  fit  should  add  to  his  own  discomfort  and 
that  of  other  people  by  entering  into  a  gasping  analysis 
of  the  phenomenon. 

"  Look  at  the  ceiling,  Ambrose,"  advised  M'ark. 

Everyone  in  the  room  immediately  set  this  desirable 
example  by  a  sort  of  mysterious  instinct,  while  the  un- 
fortunate Ambrose  kept  his  head  well  down  over  his 
plate  and  continued  to  emit  hysterical  crows. 

"  Look  at  me,  Peekaboo !  "  shouted  Ruthie.  "  I'm 
looking  at  the  ceiling !  " 

She  hung  backwards  over  her  chair,  glaring  upwards 
with  starting  eyeballs. 

"  Don't  do  that,  Ruthie,"  said  Mark,  Iris  and  Lady 
Rossiter  simultaneously. 


204  TENSION 

"  Try  and  get  your  breath,  laddie,"  advised  Mr. 
Garrett  kindly,  if  with  some  superfluity. 

"  He'll  be  better  in  a  moment.  Go  on  talking," 
was  Lady  Rossiter's  tactful  suggestion,  which  had  the 
immediate  effect  of  paralysing  the  assembly  into  a 
silence  upon  which  the  paroxysms  of  Ambrose  struck 
with  greatly  enhanced  violence. 

Sir  Julian  threw  himself  into  the  breach,  addressing 
himself  to  Mark  Easter  with  an  air  of  unconcern  which 
he  felt  to  be  overdone. 

"  Have  you  talked  to  Walters  about  the  car  for 
Tuesday?  I  told  him  you  would  let  him  know  what 
time- 

"  Let's  pat  Peekaboo  on  the  back,"  cried  Ruthie 
hilariously. 

"  Gently,  then.  Yes,  Sir  Julian,  thanks  very  much, 
I  ...  No,  no,  Ruthie  —  stop  that  —  can't  you  see 
you're  making  him  worse?  " 

"  Daddy,  I  just  choked  —  a  crumb " 

"  For  goodness'  sake  don't  talk,  Ambrose.  You'd 
better  go  upstairs." 

"I'm  sure  the  child  will  have  convulsions  in  an- 
other minute.  Do  look  at  his  face!  Douglas,  don't 
you  think  he's  turning  black?  " 

This  last  contribution  of  his  Auntie  Iris'  to  the  sum 
of  calamities  already  overwhelming  the  distressed  Am- 
brose caused  him  to  burst  into  tears. 

"Do  drink  some  tea,  dear,"  urged  Lady  Rossiter. 

"  Take  him  upstairs,  Ruthie,"  said  her  parent 
wearily. 

The  victim  was  removed,  protesting  inarticulately 
at  the  mirthful  ministrations  still  insisted  upon  by  his 
sister. 


TENSION  205 

Everyone  was  conscious  of  relief,  and  Lady  Rossi- 
ter  said  tolerantly,  "  Poor  little  boy !  " 

"  He  feels  the  wedding  dreadfully"  Iris  observed. 

"Feels  the  wedding?" 

"  Yes,  you  know,  he's  afraid  that  it  means  losing 
me.  I've  always  been  so  much  with  the  dear  kiddie- 
widdies." 

"  You've  always  been  very  fond  of  them,  my  dear, 
and  they  of  you,"  said  Mark  gratefully. 

"  I  should  have  liked  little  Peekaboo  for  a  page," 
said  Iris  sentimentally,  "  but  he's  just  the  wrong  size. 
And  besides,  poor  darling,  he  hasn't  got  his  front 
teeth.  Ruthie's  bridesmaid  frock  has  come,  Lady 
Rossiter." 

Under  cover  of  the  polite  interest  evinced  by  Edna 
at  the  information,  her  husband  made  his  escape  from 
the  room. 

He  and  Mark,  smoking  in  the  garden,  turned  with 
undisguised  relief  from  the  topic  of  the  hour,  and  dis- 
cussed instead  the  affairs  of  Culmouth  College. 

"What  about  this  Gloucester  business?  Old  Bel- 
lew  is  patting  himself  on  the  back  all  right.  He  thinks 
there's  likely  to  be  an  opening  in  Cardiff,  too." 

"  All  the  better.  We  always  hoped  the  scheme 
would  spread,  Sir  Julian." 

"  I  know.  Who  could  have  guessed  it  would  come 
so  quickly,  though?  Look  here,  Mark,  have  you 
thought  who  ought  to  go  and  see  these  Gloucester  fel- 
lows and  start  them  off  in  their  new  premises  ?  " 

"Well  — I  left  that  to  you,"  said  Mark  hesitat- 
ingly. 

"Of  course,  you're  the  man  to  send,  but  I  don't 
know  that  we  can  spare  you  at  the  minute." 


206  TENSION 

"  Fm  quite  at  your  disposal  for  anything,"  said  Mark 
cheerfully. 

"  Would  you  go?  After  all,  it  could  only  be  a  mat- 
ter of  two  or  three  days." 

"That's  all.  But  the  only  thing  I'm  thinking  is, 
whether  it  wouldn't  be  a  good  thing  to  take  one  of  the 
actual  staff  —  someone  who's  really  been  working  the 
thing  from  the  inside." 

For  an  insane  moment,  a  surmise  worthy  of  Iris 
herself  crossed  Sir  Julian's  mind.  Could  Mark  Easter 
be  about  to  adjudicate  to  himself  Miss  Marchrose  as 
a  travelling  companion? 

"  What  about  Fuller?  "  said  Mark.  "  He's  a  good 
man  of  business,  and  got  all  the  facts  and  figures  at 
his  finger-ends." 

"  He  could  be  spared,  I  suppose?  " 

"  I  think  so.  Miss  Marchrose  could  quite  well  take 
on  for  a  day  or  two.  She's  won  golden  opinions  from 
Fuller." 

"H'm.  The  misogynist,"  said  Sir  Julian  reflec- 
tively. 

Interruption  came   only  too  soon. 

Sir  Julian  heartily  wished  that  he  had  taken  the  more 
drastic  measure  of  returning  outright  to  Culmhayes 
when  the  garden  was  invaded  not  only  by  the  lovers 
themselves,  Edna  walking  slightly  behind  them  with 
a  rather  consciously  unconscious  expression,  but  also 
by  a  triumphantly  whooping  Ambrose,  glorying  in  his 
restored  ability  to.  render  the  day  hideous  with  sound. 

Ruthie  was  for  the  moment,  unwontedly  enough, 
both  invisible  and  inaudible. 

Iris  instantly  attached  herself  to  Sir  Julian.  He  had 
been  regretfully  compelled  to  realise  that  ever  since 


TENSION  207 

the  day,  regarded  by  him  with  horror,  of  their  conver- 
sation in  his  study,  Miss  Easter  had  assumed  the  ex- 
istence of  some  intimate  understanding  between  them, 
such  as  caused  her  to  make  him  the  recipient  oT  many 
small  personal  confidences  that  filled  him  with  em- 
barrassment. 

"  You  know  I  wanted  Douglas  to  be  married  in  a 
kilt?" 

"Did  you?" 

"  But  he's  so  ridiculously  shy.  And  what's  that  other 
thing  they  wear?  " 

Sir  Julian  looked  unintelligent  and  Mr.  Garrett's 
deep  voice  behind  him  made  suggestion. 

"  Is  the  lassie  thinking  of  the  tartan?  " 

"  Ye-es,"  said  Iris  doubtfully.  "  Or  do  I  mean  a 
plaid?" 

Sir  Julian  felt  quite  unequal  to  enlightening  her. 

"  I  see  that  I  shall  have  to  teach  you  many  things," 
said  Mr.  Garrett  gloomily. 

"Do  you  expect  ever  to  live  in  Scotland?"  Sir 
Julian  enquired. 

"  We  toilers  and  sowers  gravitate  to  London  instinc- 
tively. I  always  say,"  Mr.  Garrett  observed,  in  tones 
of  great  interest,  "  I  always  say  that  London  is  the 
modern  Mecca.  Pilgrims  come  there  from  all  parts. 
It  is,  in  many  ways,  a  city  of  freedom.  London, 
someone  has  said  —  the  name  of  the  writer  has  es- 
caped my  memory  —  is  the  only  capital  in  the  world 
where  a  man  can  eat  a  penny  bun  in  the  streets  without 
exciting  comment.  Now,  that  seems  to  me  quite  ex- 
traordinarily descriptive." 

It  seemed  to  Sir  Julian,  on  the  contrary,  quite  ex- 
traordinarily futile,  and  he  wished,  not  for  the  first 


208  TENSION 

time,  that  Iris  would  make  her  appeals  to  some  other 
source,  when  she  murmured  in  a  trustful  way: 

"  Isn't  Douglas  rather  wonderful?  You  know  what 
I  mean  —  I  think  he's  wonderful,  sometimes.  The 
things  he  says,  I  mean." 

"  We  shall  live  in  London  for  a  time,"  Mr.  Garrett 
pursued.  "  My  journalistic  work  will  keep  me  there, 
and  then  we  have  to  think  of  Iris'  literary  career.  I 
immensely  want  her  to  meet  some  of  the  great  thinkers 
of  the  day." 

Iris  looked  awe-stricken,  clasped  her  hand,  and  said 
in  a  small,  hushed  voice : 

"  Just  think  of  the  vistas  and  vistas  and  vistas  that 
it  opens  up !  " 

Sir  Julian  did  so,  and  barely  suppressed  a  visible 
shudder  at  the  phalanx  of  journalistic  luminaries,  of 
whom  he  felt  certain  that  the  great  thinkers  of  the  day, 
as  known  to  Mr.  Garrett,  consisted. 

"  How  is  your  book  going?  " 

*  The  sales  haven't  been  very  large,  but  it's  been 
tremendously  noticed,  for  a  first  novel,"  said  Iris  hope- 
fully. 

'  You  must  help  me  to  persuade  Iris,"  said  Mr. 
Garrett,  also  adding  his  mite  to  the  quota  of  appeal 
so  ill  responded  to  by  the  unfortunate  Julian.  '  You 
must  help  me  to  persuade  this  little  woman,  that  big 
sales  matter  very  little  in  comparison  with  the  meed 
of  recognition  that  '  Ben '  has  received  from  the  think- 
ing section  of  the  .reading  world." 

"  Ruthie  is  up  that  tree,"  announced  Ambrose 
loudly  and  suddenly,  thereby  for  the  first  time  becom- 
ing the  unconscious  object  of  Sir  Julian's  brief  and 
passionate  gratitude. 


TENSION  209 

Iris,  Douglas  and  Sir  Julian  all  gazed  upwards  and 
became  aware  of  Miss  Easter,  perilously  grappling  the 
bare  limb  of  a  leafless  tree. 

Followed  Ruthie's  inevitable  discovery  that  the  po- 
sition so  recklessly  attained  was  both  uncomfortable 
and  insecure,  her  proclamation  of  immediate  and  exces- 
sive peril,  and  the  issuing  of  annoyed  ejaculations  and 
peremptory  advice  from  the  upgazers  gathered  below. 

"  Better  fetch  a  step-ladder  at  once.  She'll  only  fall 
and  hurt  herself,"  said  Iris. 

"Where?" 

"  Oh,"  said  Iris  distractedly,  "  I  don't  think  we've 
got  one  anywhere." 

"  Better  abandon  the  project,  then,"  Mark  observed 
mildly.  "  I'll  go  up  after  her." 

"  The  tree  will  break,"  wailed  Iris. 

"  Not  it !  Wish  it  would,  and  give  the  kid  a  lesson. 
Sorry  to  treat  you  to  such  a  series  of  domestic  calami- 
ties, Lady  Rossiter." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Edna,  smiling.  "  You  know  I  take 
things  as  I  find  them." 

They  waited  to  see  the  rescue  effected,  and  left  Mr. 
Garrett  serenely  observing,  "  You  should  remember  to 
look  up,  and  not  down,  when  you  climb,  lassie." 

"  What  a  household!  "  said  Julian. 

"  One  wonders  what  those  unfortunate,  motherless 
children  will  grow  up  into,"  his  wife  responded 
thoughtfully. 

"  It  doesn't  seem  to  me  that  there's  much  room  for 
wonder." 

"  When  this  wedding  is  over  I  shall  talk  to  Mark 
again  about  sending  Ruthie  to  school.  It  would  really 
be  a  great  mercy  if  the  boy  could  go  too." 


210  TENSION 

"Why  shouldn't  he?" 

"  He's  really  not  at  all  strong,  I  believe.  But  I'll 
talk  to  Mark,"  repeated  Edna. 

Some  subtle  hint  of  complacency  in  her  voice  kept 
Sir  Julian  obstinately  silent.  He  really  did  not  know 
whether  or  not  his  wife's  influence  with  Mark  Easter 
was  as  strong  as  she  assumed  it  to  be.  Mark  was  of 
all  things  easy-going,  and  Julian  did  not  know  that  the 
question  of  his  children  preoccupied  him  very  deeply. 
Not  improbable  that  he  might  even  sacrifice  Ambrose 
and  his  problematical  delicacy  of  constitution  for  the 
sake  of  peace,  and  the  satisfaction  of  Lady  Rossiter. 

It  remained  to  be  seen,  Julian  thought,  whether 
there  were  anything  to  which  Mark  attached  sufficient 
importance  to  fight  for  it.  Julian  was  oddly  obsessed 
by  the  conviction  that  contest  was  in  the  air. 


XVI 

IT  was  always  felt  that  the  great  disappointment  in 
connection  with  Iris  Easter's  wedding  was  the  shock 
unconsciously  caused  by  Mr.  Douglas  Garrett's  father. 

The  representative  of  the  Clan  appeared  in  the  guise 
of  a  stout,  handsome  old  man  with  waxed  moustache, 
in  rather  smart,  tight,  black  clothes,  wearing  a  top-hat, 
a  white  carnation  buttonhole,  and  white  spats,  and 
speaking  with  an  accent  that,  though  exceedingly  pro- 
nounced, was  not  to  be  recognised  as  that  of  any  known 
part  of  Scotland. 

The  conviction  gradually  filtered  through  the  assem- 
bled guests  that  Mr.  Garrett  senior  spoke  with  the 
tongue  of  Swindon.  The  blurred  vowels  and  resonant 
r  were  unmistakable. 

But  old  Mr.  Garrett  made  no  pretence  at  the  Keltic 
atmosphere  so  fondly  affected  by  his  son. 

"  My  dearr  boy,"  he  affectionately  apostrophised 
the  bridegroom,  "  I've  left  the  business  to  take  cayurr 
of  itself,  for  the  first  time  in  nearly  twenty  years. 
You  don't  know  what  business  is,  loafing  about  Lon- 
don doing  a  little  scribbling  heerr  and  therre  the  way 
you  do,  otherwise  you'd  appreciate  my  presence  heerr 
to-day  at  its  full  value." 

Douglas  Garrett  made  no  audible  response  that  could 
be  interpreted  into  the  required  assurance,  but  old  Mr. 
Garrett  spoke  so  loudly  and  confidently  that  it  was 
almost  impossible  to  believe  his  observation  to  be  any- 

211 


212  TENSION 

thing  but  a  sort  of  impromptu  rehearsal  of  the  speech 
that  he  would  deliver  at  the  wedding-breakfast. 

The  interval  of  waiting  in  the  church  appeared  likely 
to  be  of  indefinite  duration,  and  everybody  heard  old 
Mr.  Garrett  express  to  his  son  the  hope  that  the 
"  gurrel  "  hadn't  thought  better  of  it  at  the  last  minute. 

"  Therre  have  been  such  cases  known,  my  dearr  boy," 
he  dispassionately  remarked,  "  and  your  I-ris  looked 
to  me  a  highly  nervous  sort  of  gurrel." 

Lady  Rossiter,  in  the  front  bench,  sank  onto  her  knees, 
less  from  a  sudden  access  of  prayerfulness  than  from 
a  very  obvious  desire  to  make  evident  the  unsuitability 
of  old  Mr.  Garrett's  behaviour  to  his  surroundings. 

"You're  not  feeling  hysterical,  are  you?"  suspi- 
ciously demanded  Mr.  Garrett,  whisking  round  on  the 
instant  at  this  demonstration.  "  I  know  what  you 
ladies  are.  It's  a  very  trying  wait  for  all  of  us,  and 
I'm  afraid  my  poorr  boy  may  break  down  if  it  goes 
on  much  longer.  Don't  let  yourself  get  upset  on  any 
account." 

At  last  the  sounds  of  arrival  made  themselves  heard 
without  the  church,  the  bridegroom's  expression  re- 
laxed, and  his  father  gave  a  loud  gasp  of  relief. 

An  explanatory  murmur,  of  the  kind  that  has  an 
origin  destined  to  remain  for  ever  unknown,  pervaded 
the  church. 

"  She's  been  crying  —  dreadfully  upset  —  no  mother 
—  poor  little  thing.  All  right  now." 

"  I  said  the  gurrel  looked  to  me  nervous,"  remarked 
the  elder  Mr.  Garrett,  with  conscious  triumph  in  his 
own  omniscience. 

"  How  like  Auntie  Iris !  "  thought  Julian,  for  the 
hundredth  time. 


TENSION  213 

At  all  events,  the  bride's  pretty  little  face  showed  no 
trace  of  tears  now,  as  she  came  slowly  up  the  aisle  on 
her  brother's  arm. 

Following  her,  and  casting  triumphant  and  self -sat- 
isfied glances  from  left  to  right,  was  the  solitary  brides- 
maid. 

Ruthie  was  a  plain  little  girl,  and  it  was  impossible 
not  to  feel  that  attempt  at  embellishment  had  done 
much  towards  making  her  still  plainer. 

Her  short  white  skirts  stuck  out  to  ungraceful  di- 
mensions above  brown-stockinged  legs  and  strapped 
shoes  that,  to  Julian's  disgusted  perceptions,  had  never 
appeared  of  more  solid  proportions,  and  the  broad 
sash  tied  firmly  round  her  person  was  of  a  disastrous 
shade  of  salmon  pink. 

A  second  edition  of  the  sash  reappeared  round  the 
wide  straw  hat  that  Ruthie,  more  sua,  wore  upon  the 
extreme  back  of  her  head. 

Her  thick,  stiff  brown  hair  showed  only  too  evident 
manifestations  of  having  been  severely  treated  by 
Sarah,  in  the  manner  known  as  "  damp-plaiting  "  on 
the  previous  evening. 

The  whole  effect  was  rather  that  of  a  young  South 
Sea  Islander  introduced  for  the  first  time  into  Euro- 
pean garb  and  aware  of  novelty. 

The  College  staff  was  sufficiently  well  represented. 
Iris  had  expressed  a  sort  of  whole-hearted  wish  to 
see  "  all  the  dear  people  from  Culmouth  College  "  in 
the  church,  and  this  rather  reckless  aspiration  had  not 
been  left  without  response. 

Cooper  was  prominent  in  immaculate  gloves,  with 
Miss  Sandiloe  beside  him,  coy  and  alert  both  at  once 
and  poised  first  on  one  foot  and  then  on  the  other,  as 


214  TENSION 

though  her  shoes  hurt  her  feet.  Julian  saw  Miss 
Marchrose,  looking  better  than  he  had  ever  seen  her, 
in  a  bench  at  the  bottom  of  the  church.  She  wore  a 
soft  felt  hat  that  became  her,  and  her  changeful  face 
was  full  of  colour. 

"  She  looks  happier,"  thought  Julian,  and  imme- 
diately felt  a  doubtful  foreboding  as  to  the  source  of 
that  look. 

He  remembered  that  Miss  Marchrose,  on  the  day 
before  the  wedding,  had  officiated  at  a  small  ceremony 
at  Culmouth  College,  when  she  had  presented  to  Iris, 
on  behalf  of  the  staff,  a  silver  mirror. 

Neither  Sir  Julian  nor  Lady  Rossiter  had  been  pres- 
ent, but  Mark  had  described  the  occasion  afterwards  to 
Sir  Julian  alone. 

"  Fuller  did  all  the  speaking,  and  did  it  uncommonly 
well,  too.  I  didn't  know  he  had  it  in  him,  but  it  was 
just  right  —  awfully  good  little  speech.  Miss  March- 
rose  presented  the  thing,  and  looked  very  pretty. 
Blushed  like  anything,  too,  when  Fuller  began  some- 
thing about  her  having  been  chosen  to  represent  the 
staff.  Fuller  thinks  she's  his  discovery,  you  know,  and 
he's  no  end  proud  of  her." 

Julian  was  not  a  little  inclined  to  wonder  whether 
Fairfax  Fuller,  emphasising  the  claims  of  the  Lady 
Superintendent,  had  not  taken  his  stand  upon  the 
lines  of  championship.  Nor  did  he  care  to  dwell  upon 
the  actual  or  threatened  attacks  which  should  have 
aroused  the  never  very  deeply  dormant  combative  in- 
stincts of  Mr.  Fuller.  If  Miss  Marchrose  should  need 
an  ally,  she  had  at  all  events  assured  herself  of  one  to 
whom  half -measures  were  unknown.  Julian  only  re- 


TENSION  215 

turned  to  the  present  when  the  bridegroom,  in  a  voice 
which  seemed  full  of  deep  protest  against  the  archaic 
formula  required  of  him,  repeated  after  the  clergyman 
the  vows  appointed  to  him.  Iris  was  inaudible. 

The  exodus  to  the  vestry,  and  the  usual  rapturous 
displays  of  enthusiasm  therein,  duly  took  place,  and 
Mr.  Garrett  gave  his  arm  to  his  bride  and  conducted 
her  down  the  aisle  to  the  triumphant  strains  of  the 
wedding-march  from  Lohengrin  —  the  characteristic 
selection  made  by  Iris  on  the  grounds  of  originality. 

There  was  to  be  no  reception,  and  it  was  undeni- 
able that  a  certain  sense  of  anti-climax  pervaded  the 
villa  when  old  Mr.  Garrett,  Sir  Julian  and  Lady  Rossi- 
ter,  accompanied  by  Ruthie  and  Ambrose,  found 
themselves  at  the  gates,  over  which  a  slightly  perilous 
triumphal  arch  wavered  in  the  cold  wind. 

"Mr.  and  Mrs.  Garrett  is  in  the  drawing-room!" 
quoth  Sarah  excitedly  at  the  entrance. 

"  My  dearr  children !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Garrett  senior, 
and  thereafter  carried  off  the  whole  situation  with  a 
high  hand. 

He  kissed  Iris,  clapped  his  son  on  the  back,  and 
stood  for  some  time  with  his  large  old  hand  kindly 
and  weightily  gripping  the  younger  man's  shoulder; 
he  made  jokes  about  "  giving  away  the  bride  "  that  had 
no  merit  save  that  of  extreme  antiquity,  he  became 
exceedingly  solemn  and  alluded  to  Douglas'  sainted 
mother,  and  then  by  a  natural  transition  to  Douglas' 
probable  offspring,  which  discomposed  Iris  to  the  ex- 
tent of  sending  her  into  the  dining-room  forthwith 
where  luncheon  awaited  the  party. 

"  That  dearr  child  is  the  least  little  bit  nervous, 


2i6  TENSION 

rushing  away  like  that,"  Mr.  Garrett  remarked  in  an 
explanatory  way,  and  paternally  ushered  them  all  out 
of  the  room. 

The  wedding-breakfast  in  no  way  defeated  him. 
Mark,  in  something  less  than  his  usual  radiant  good 
spirits,  yet  muttered  to  Julian  under  his  breath,  with 
a  laugh  in  his  eyes : 

"Ain't  I  volatile?" 

Volatile  Mr.  Garrett  certainly  was.  He  made  two 
speeches,  one  when  Iris  tremulously  cut  her  wedding- 
cake,  and  another  at  a  later  stage  of  the  proceedings, 
when  he  judged  the  drinking  of  healths  to  be  apropos. 

"  I  am  nearly  seventy,"  he  earnestly  told  them,  with 
a  good  deal  of  emphasis,  "  and  the  day  may  be  with 
us  before  some  of  us  look  for  it,  when  my  boy  here, 
and  his  wife  and  —  shall  I  say,  I  hope  other rs  as  well? 
—  will  step  into  my  shoes.  And  those  shoes  —  I  say 
it  in  all  seriousness,  although  my  speech  may  be  a  jest- 
ing one,  as  it  were  —  those  shoes,  I  hope,  will  not  be 
the  proverbial  shoes  that  pinch." 

Mr.  Garrett  paused  for  a  more  lengthy  appreciation 
of  his  own  humour,  while  everyone  made  polite  and 
rather  mirthless  sounds  of  amusement,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Iris,  still  blushing,  and  Douglas,  wrapt  in  im- 
penetrable gloom.  Ruthie  and  Ambrose,  indeed, 
laughed  loudly,  and  at  sufficient  length  to  draw 
down  upon  themselves  a  reprehensive  glance  from 
Lady  Rossiter  and  a  murderous  one  from  the  bride- 
groom. 

"  The  fact  is,  my  dear  son  and  daughter,"  said  old 
Mr.  Garrett  impressively,  "  that  there  is  a  future  be- 
fore you.  Not  only  that  future  of  domestic  joy  and 
happiness  which  we  see  foreshadowed  to-day  —  that 


TENSION  217 

circle  of  home  faces  "  —  everybody  looked  apprehen- 
sive —  "  which  I  hope  will  gather  round  your  hearth 
as  the  yearrs  go  on,  but  also  a  future  in  business.  Of 
that  future,  /  have  laid  the  foundations  for  you. 
Douglas,  my  dearr  boy,  you  have  seen  the  business  at 
Swindon  ?  " 

Douglas  looked  infinitely  depressed. 

"  That  business,"  said  his  undaunted  parent,  "  I  have 
built  up  from  the  very  beginning.  You  will  have  noth- 
ing to  do  but  follow  the  lines  I  have  laid  down. 
There's  the  old  home  waiting  for  you,  the  dear  little 
old  house  in  Cambridge  Road  West  that  you  know  so 
well,  and  that  I  hope  that  pretty  creature  here  will  soon 
know  as  well  as  you  do." 

Sir  Julian,  aware  that  everyone  in  the  room  was  by 
this  time  obsessed  by  a  vivid  recollection  of  the  flight 
of  imagination  which  had  led  Iris'  husband  to  date  his 
ancestral  reminiscences  from  Scotland,  avoided  meet- 
ing the  eye  of  anyone  present. 

This  exercise,  indeed,  was  freely  indulged  in  by 
the  majority  of  those  who  sat  and  listened  to  the  elo- 
quent speech  of  Mr.  Garrett  senior. 

It  came  to  an  end  at  last,  and  Iris  ran  away  to  change 
her  dress,  a  sudden  access  of  skittishness  superimposed 
upon  her  shyness. 

Douglas  simultaneously  took  the  opportunity  of  dis- 
appearing, and  Sir  Julian  found  himself  enabled  to 
put  the  question  that  had  been  making  its  way  to  his 
mind  almost  irresistibly  all  the  morning. 

"  What  does  your  business  in  Swindon  consist  of, 
Mr.  Garrett?"  ' 

"  Printing  and  stationery,  Sir  Julian,"  said  the  old 
man,  proudly  and  simply.  "  A  go-ahead  little  con- 


218  TENSION 

cern  on  the  small  scale,  though  I  say  it  that  shouldn't. 
It's  enabled  me  to  give  my  only  son  an  allowance,  so 
that  he  could  see  life  in  London  for  a  while  before 
settling  down  in  Swindon  like  his  father  and  grand- 
father before  him." 

"  Your  family  has  an  old  connection  with  Swindon, 
then?" 

Sir  Julian,  interested,  had  forgotten  the  Keltic  as- 
pirations of  Douglas  until  they  were  recalled  by  Mr. 
Garrett's  answer. 

'  Two  generations,  Sir  Julian.  My  grandfather 
came  from  the  North,  I  believe,  but  he  married  a  Lon- 
don gurrel,  and  they  settled  in  Swindon  after  a  year 
or  two.  Swindon  is  a  fascinating  town,  I  can  assure 
you,  and  if  ever  you  make  a  visit  there  I  shall  be 
happy  to  show  you  some  of  the  glories  of  the  dear  old 
place." 

Mr.  Garrett  wiped  his  glasses  and  walked  about  the 
room,  talking  gaily  and  persistently  to  while  away  the 
time  of  waiting  for  the  bride's  reappearance. 

"  And  what's  your  opinion  of  a  wedding,  my  dearr 
little  fellow?"  he  genially  enquired  of  Ambrose,  who 
wore  a  rather  forlorn  aspect. 

"Eh?"  said  Ambrose,  with  more  dejection  than 
usual  in  the  delivery  of  his  objectionable  exclamation. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  a  wedding,  now  you've  seen 
one?  This  is  your  first  experience,  I  presume?" 

Ambrose  looked  absent-minded,  gazed  up  enquir- 
ingly through  his  spectacles  for  a  moment,  and  then 
said,  "  Eh?  "  all  over  again. 

"  My  dearr  child,  don't  say  '  eh,'  like  that!  "  rather 
testily  exclaimed  the  old  man,  a  prey  to  the  universal 
impulse  of  annoyance  which  almost  invariably  assailed 


TENSION  219 

everyone  entering  into  conversation  with  the  unfor- 
tunate Ambrose. 

"What  does  your  little  sister  say?" 

"  I  like  being  bridesmaid,"  Ruthie  announced  in  self- 
satisfied  tones.  "  Uncle  Douglas  gave  me  a  bangle." 
She  thrust  the  trinket  forward  for  inspection,  and  old 
Mr.  Garrett  admired  it  gravely. 

"I  suppose  that's  what  you  call  a  sweet  thing? 
Isn't  that  the  great  word?  Well,  my  dearr  child,  I'm 
glad  you're  satisfied." 

Ruthie  looked  at  him  intelligently. 

"  I  only  hope  that  Auntie  Iris  will  have  a  baby  soon, 
because  then  Sarah  says  it  will  be  my  first  cousin,  and 
I  haven't  got  any." 

On  this  delicate  aspiration  of  Miss  Easter's  the  con- 
versation came  to  a  rather  abrupt  conclusion. 

"Iris  ought  to  be  ready  now,"  said  Mark;  "they 
won't  have  too  much  time  to  get  to  the  station." 

He  went  upstairs. 

Presently  the  bridegroom  wandered  into  the  draw- 
ing-room again,  evidently  self-conscious,  and  endeav- 
ouring to  conceal  it  by  an  excessive  display  of  anxiety 
as  to  the  probability  of  missing  the  train. 

"Here  she  is!" 

'  The  car  is  waiting,"  proclaimed  Ruthie. 

Old  Mr.  Garrett  gazed  at  the  white  favours  adorn- 
ing the  motor. 

"  Isn't  there  a  shoe  tied  on  behind  ?  "  he  demanded 
sharply. 

"I  —  I  don't  see  one,"  said  Sir  Julian,  rather  feebly, 
and  with  an  unaccountable  sense  of  having  been  remiss 
in  omitting  to  provide  this  emblem  of  good  fortune. 

"  Don't  let  them  drive  away  without  an  old  shoe !  " 


220  TENSION 

pleaded  Mr.  Garrett.  "  My  dearr  child  —  Ruth,  if 
that's  your  name —  run  up  to  the  bedrooms  and  see 
what  you  can  find.  I  couldn't  let  my  boy  go  off  on  his 
wedding  trip  without  a  shoe  for  good  luck." 

In  eager  obedience  to  this  flight  of  sentiment, 
Ruthie  triumphantly  rushed  upstairs,  the  successive 
sounds  of  burst-open  doors,  hasty  explorations,  and 
triumphant  pouncings  conveying  the  rate  of  her  prog- 
ress with  great  accuracy  to  those  in  the  drawing-room 
below. 

In  the  excitement  which  Mr.  Garrett  diffused  round 
the  whole  question,  there  was  no  possibility  of  an 
emotional  farewell. 

Mark  put  Iris  into  the  motor  —  a  radiantly  pretty 
bride  —  and  Douglas  got  in  beside  her,  after  mutter- 
ing something  about  the  old  man  being  in  extraordi- 
narily good  form  to-day  and  inclined  to  get  above  his 
boots. 

"We  of  the  younger  generation "  began  Mr. 

Douglas  Garrett,  quite  in  his  old  manner,  and  then 
looked  as  though  he  had  suddenly  recollected  the  ad- 
vanced years  of  Sir  Julian  himself,  and  subsided  into 
the  shelter  of  the  motor  without  another  word. 

His  father,  having  already  hurried  to  the  back  of  the 
car  and  affixed  there  a  white  satin  shoe  and  a  bedroom 
slipper,  with  much  boisterous  assistance  from  Ruthie, 
proceeded  to  deliver  a  valedictory  harangue  from  the 
step. 

"  God  bless  you,  my  two  dearr  children,  and  shower 
upon  you  all  the  blessing  of  the  married  state.  Send 
the  old  man  a  postcard  from  your  first  stopping-place, 
and,  Iris,  my  dearr  new  daughter,  you'll  keep  my  son 
up  to  writing,  and  I  shall  be  ready  for  you  both  in  the 


TENSION  221 

dearr  little  house  at  home,  whenever  you  like  to  come 
there.  Also/'  said  Mr.  Garrett  hopefully,  "  we  shall 
meet  in  London.  I  think  nothing  of  running  up  there. 
Good-bye  —  good-bye  —  bless  you  both." 

He  stood  at  the  door  waving  a  large  clean  handker- 
chief delicately  scented  with  eau-de-Cologne,  his  shiny 
top-hat  rather  to  one  side  and  the  ends  of  his  beauti- 
fully waxed  moustaches  standing  out  stiffly.  His  kind 
old  eyes  shone  with  emotion. 

"  Yourr  loss,"  he  remarked,  with  simple  sententious- 
ness,  to  Mark  Easter,  "  your  loss  is  ourr  gain.  That's 
a  pretty  gurrel  and  a  good  gurrel,  I  feel  sure.  I  appre- 
ciate my  boy's  good  fortune,  I  assure  you." 

He  shook  hands  with  them  all,  begged  them  to  visit 
Swindon,  thanked  them  again  and  again  for  their 
kindness  to  himself  and  his  dearr  boy  Douglas,  and  took 
his  leave. 

"  I  will  not  intrude  upon  you  any  further,"  was  all 
his  reply  to  Mark's  cordial  invitation  to  remain. 
"  You  have  been  goodness  itself  to  an  old  man.  Good- 
bye to  you  all,  good-bye." 

"  I  think,  in  Auntie  Iris'  place,  I  should  have  pre- 
ferred the  father  to  the  son,"  said  Julian,  as  he  went 
homeward  with  his  wife. 

"  Poor  old  man !  There's  something  very  genuine 
about  him,  in  spite  of  his  vulgarity,"  replied  Lady  Ros- 
siter,  with  that  leniency  of  tone  that  most  successfully 
drapes  a  rather  disparaging  utterance. 

"  I  wonder,"  observed  Julian,  for  once  in  a  loqua- 
cious mood,  "  what  the  next  production  will  be  from 
Auntie  Iris'  pen?  And  whether  the  influence  of  Mr. 
Douglas  Garrett  will  be  very  obvious." 

"  That  might  not  be  a  bad  thing." 


222  TENSION 

"  It  couldn't  be  a  much  worse  thing  than  '  Why, 
Ben ! '  was." 

"  Silly  little  girl !  I  wish  she  would  stop  writing 
altogether.  I  have  locked  up  my  copy  of  '  Why, 
Ben! '  on  account  of  the  servants.  I  always  hold  that 
one  is  so  wholly  responsible  for  the  books  one  leaves 
about,  with  either  children  or  uneducated  people  in  the 
house,  to  whom  they  might  do  so  much  harm." 

"  I  shouldn't  have  thought  that  Mason's  head  was 
very  easily  turned,"  thoughtfully  rejoined  Sir  Julian, 
who  was  aware  of  his  wife's  protracted  and  unsuccess- 
ful wrestlings  with  the  recalcitrant  spirit  of  Mason. 

"  I  sometimes  think  that  I  shall  have  to  get  another 
maid,"  sighed  Edna.  "  One  goes  on  so  gladly  and 
willingly  from  day  to  day  when  there  is  the  least  little 
sign  of  any  response,  but  Mason  is  at  a  very,  very 
elementary  stage.  Of  course  it's  all  a  question  of  soul- 
growth  —  hers  is  just  a  young,  blind,  struggling  soul, 
and  there  is  only  the  most  pitying  tenderness  to  be  felt 
for  that,  but  I  suppose  poor  human  nature  is  impatient, 
and  longs  to  see  a  little  dawning  of  that  Divine  Spark 
which  one  knows  so  well  is  there  all  the  time." 

But  to  this  gently-spoken  plaint  Sir  Julian,  suddenly 
become  silent,  made  no  reply  whatever. 

Edna  went  into  the  morning-room  rather  dejectedly. 
An  unsympathetic  atmosphere,  she  often  felt,  wearied 
her  more  than  any  physical  strain.  She  was  unaware 
that  this  conviction  is  a  singularly  widespread  one 
amongst  those  who  have  never  been  called  upon  for 
any  excess  of  bodily  toil. 

Iris  was  married.  There  was  no  further  occasion 
for  matronly  tact  and  tenderness,  nor  for  the  beautiful 
tolerance  of  maturity  towards  the  crudities  of  youth. 


TENSION  223 

Douglas  Garrett  had  achieved  his  object,  and  re- 
turned to  London  with  his  bride.  The  necessity  there- 
fore no  longer  existed  either  for  overlooking  and 
graciously  ignoring  his  many  shortcomings,  or  for 
dropping  those  little  kindly  sayings  that  should  serve 
to  remind  others,  too  rashly  condemning  Mr.  Garrett, 
of  that  great  question,  "  Is  it  kind  —  is  it  wise  —  is  it 
true?" 

Mr.  Garrett's  father,  who  might  certainly  have 
served  as  a  substantial  peg  upon  which  to  hang  many  a 
word  of  gentle  forbearance,  had  gone  away,  and  even 
the  most  determined  philanthropy  could  see  no  hope- 
ful outlet  in  the  direction  of  Ruthie  and  Ambrose 
Easter. 

Lady  Rossiter  began  to  think  of  Mark.  This  she 
did  almost  instinctively  whenever  her  sense  of  the  need 
for  "  giving  out "  was  at  a  loss  for  an  object.  The 
situation  of  Mark  Easter  was  one  of  such  obvious 
tragedy,  and  daily  reiterated  pathos,  that  the  consid- 
eration of  it  could  minimise  the  rather  incongruous 
light-heartedness  with  which  he  himself  faced  it.  One 
could  always  help  Mark. 

His  children  needed  help. 

His  whole  household  required  the  supervision  of  a 
feminine  eye  at  the  shortest  possible  intervals,  and 
Edna  had  for  years  regarded  herself  as  the  only  woman 
with  eyes  available  for  the  purpose.  Yet  when,  on 
leaving  the  villa  after  the  wedding,  she  had  suggested, 
with  a  very  gentle  hint  of  compassionate  understand- 
ing in  her  voice,  that  Mark  should  come  and  dine  at 
Culmhayes  that  night,  he  had  replied,  without  con- 
fusion, that  he  was  going  straight  up  to  the  College  and 
should  remain  there  late. 


224  TENSION 

It  was  tragically  inevitable,  Edna  told  herself,  that 
one  should  realise  what  this  implied. 

Edna  sat  in  reflection  for  some  time,  her  face  shad- 
owed and  saddened,  but  with  that  absence  of  mobility 
of  expression  that  had  left  her  smooth  skin  almost  al- 
together unlined  throughout  her  life. 

At  dinner  that  night,  notwithstanding,  she  met  Sir 
Julian  with  an  unclouded  brow.  She  often  said  that 
part  of  her  rule  of  life  was  to  leave  all  her  cares  locked 
up  in  her  own  room,  so  that  she  might  always  diffuse 
serenity  when  with  others. 

By  some  perversity  of  fate,  however,  Edna's  effect 
upon  her  husband  was  never  the  one  at  which  she  so 
carefully  aimed.  On  this  occasion  the  diffusion  of 
serenity  engineered  by  Lady  Rossiter  appeared  only  to 
leave  Sir  Julian  rather  more  satirically  ill-tempered 
than  it  found  him. 

"  Julian,  you've  thought  about  the  question  of  send- 
ing someone  from  the  staff  here  to  Gloucester,  haven't 
you?  It  will  be  rather  a  big  responsibility." 

"For  Gloucester?" 

"  For  the  representative  of  our  College,"  said  Edna, 
with  a  little  low  laugh,  quite  obviously  meant  to  imply 
that  she  thought  it  best  to  look  upon  Sir  Julian's  cap- 
tiousness  as  having  been  humorously  intended. 

"  There  won't  be  very  much  in  it.  Only  a  question 
of  looking  at  the  buildings,  and  answering  anything 
the  local  authorities  may  want  to  ask." 

"  Would  that  young  Mr.  Cooper  be  competent?  " 

"Anyone  would  be  competent.'' 

An  all  but  imperceptible  smile  hovered  on  Lady  Ros- 
siter's  lips. 

"  Then,  Julian,  why  don't  you  send  that  unfortunate 


TENSION  225 

Miss  Marchrose?  If  a  break  is  made,  easily  and  natu- 
rally, she  can  begin  again  at  the  College  on  a  different 
footing.  You  know  there's  a  certain  amount  of  talk 
going  on  there?  " 

There  was  a  long  pause.  Sir  Julian  did  not  ask, 
"What  about?" 

Finally  he  said :  "  It's  Fuller's  business  to  decide 
who's  going  to  Gloucester.  I'm  not  responsible  for 
the  details  of  running  the  staff  there  in  any  way.  Nor 
is  the  question  an  important  one/' 

"  Ah,"  breathed  Edna,  "  you  know  that  I  can't  quite 
think  with  you  there,  Julian.  To  me,  they  are  all  im- 
mortal souls." 

"  How  will  Gloucester  affect  the  immortality  of  their 
souls  ?  "  Sir  Julian  enquired. 

But  his  wife  gazed  at  him  very  earnestly. 

"  A  woman's  instinct  is  not  very  often  wrong. 
There's  tension  in  the  air,  and  —  why  shouldn't  I  speak 
out  ?  —  I  want  to  put  out  a  helping  hand  —  to  save 
Mark,  before  things  come  to  a  head  and  he  is  faced 
with  a  crisis." 

"  In  that  case,"  said  her  husband  blandly,  "  I  had 
better  arrange  that  Mark  should  be  the  person  who  goes 
to  Gloucester." 


XVII 

"  A  VERY  cold  north  wind,"  said  Sir  Julian,  entering 
the  room  set  ready  for  a  General  Committee  meeting. 

"  Damnably  cold,"  said  Mark  Easter,  who  never 
swore. 

Sir  Julian  made  an  elaborate  rearrangement  of  the 
pencils  and  blotting-paper  on  the  table  in  front  of  him 
and  then  looked  at  Mark. 

They  were  the  first  arrivals. 

Mark's  gaze  met  Sir  Julian's,  but  it  was  unusually 
clouded. 

"  I  don't  know  what's  the  matter  with  the  place," 
he  said  irritably. 

"What's  happened?" 

"  Nothing  at  all,  that  I  know  of.  It's  just  in  the 
air.  Fuller's  like  a  bear  with  a  sore  head,  and  those 
two  women  —  Farmer  and  Sandiloe  —  whispering  to- 
gether in  corners  and  exchanging  glances  like  conspira- 
tors in  a  gunpowder  plot.  What  on  earth  is  the  matter 
with  them  all?  " 

There  was  silence,  and  then  Mark  said,  still  in  the 
same  irritable  voice : 

"  I  suppose  they  think  one's  a  perfect  fool.  If  I've 
had  one  of  them  into  my  office  this  morning,  I've  had 
half  a  dozen  —  on  the  flimsiest  excuses  you  ever  heard 
of  in  your  life.  I  don't  know  what  they  expected  to 

find  there,  I'm  sure." 

226 


TENSION  227 

If  Sir  Julian  could  have  enlightened  his  agent  on  the 
point,  he  did  not  do  so. 

But  he  became  himself  very  acutely  aware  of  the  state 
of  tension  pervading  the  College  during  the  course  of 
the  committee  meeting.  Mark,  contrary  to  his  usual 
habit,  scarcely  spoke  at  all ;  Mr.  Fuller  sat  with  a  face 
like  a  thundercloud,  a>nd,  looking  up  occasionally  un- 
der his  closely-knitted  eyebrows,  fixed  inscrutable  eyes 
upon  Miss  Marchrose  opposite. 

She  looked  tired  and  nervous,  and  Sir  Julian  re- 
membered that  it  was  less  than  a  week  since  he  had 
thought  her  looking  beautiful  at  Iris  Easter's  wedding. 

Edna,  he  noticed,  did  not  glance  at  Miss  Marchrose, 
but  from  time  to  time  her  eyes  rested  thoughtfully  upon 
Mark  Easter. 

Even  Alderman  Bellew,  far  from  susceptible  to 
shades  of  atmosphere,  struck  Sir  Julian  as  being 
vaguely  and  uneasily  watchful. 

The  meeting  was  poorly  attended,  and  when  it  was 
over  Mark  said  rather  doubtfully  to  Lady  Rossiter : 

"  You'll  have  some  tea  before  you  go,  won't  you?  " 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said  graciously.  "  Only  if  you're 
quite  sure  that  it  wouldn't  put  anyone  out,  give  any 
extra  trouble." 

"  I  can  find  out  the  state  of  the  commissariat  first,  if 
you  like,"  he  rejoined,  and  left  the  room. 

Miss  Marchrose  had  gone  already. 

Edna's  manner  altered  to  one  of  businesslike  deter- 
mination on  the  instant. 

"  I'm  going  to  make  a  little  suggestion,"  she  said 
clearly. 

The  Alderman  looked  up,  and  at  the  same  instant 
Fairfax  Fuller  took  two  steps  forward. 


228  TENSION 

"  It  isn't,  perhaps,  a  very  easy  thing  for  me  to  say," 
Lady  Rossiter  said  unfalteringly,  "  but  we  all  know 
one  another  here.  And  I  believe  —  oh,  so  intensely ! 
-  in  having  courage.  But  never  mind  that.  I  needn't 
go  into  any  details,  but  it's  this  —  I  think  the  general 
feeling  amongst  the  staff  is  that  there  might  be  some 
slight  alteration  in  the  duties  of  the  Lady  Superintend- 
ent. They  don't  altogether  like  her  doing  so  much. 
It's  natural  enough,  isn't  it?  Perhaps  they  feel  that 
inordinately  long  hours  kept  by  one  person  cast  a 
slur  upon  the  others,  who  don't  seem  to  be  quite  so 
devoted.  Perhaps  she  hasn't  been  very  tactful  about 
it.  I  don't  know  about  that.  But  at  all  events,  couldn't 
we  give  her  a  holiday  from  evening  work  for  the  pres- 
ent? Let  her  go  at  about  four  o'clock?  " 

The  Alderman's  prawn-like  eyes  were  fixed  admir- 
ingly upon  Lady  Rossiter,  but  he  said  nothing. 

Sir  Julian  spoke. 

"  You  can't  make  an  invidious  distinction  of  that 
sort,  Edna.  It  would  be  impossible." 

"  But  she  looks  very  tired,"  said  Edna  smoothly. 
"  She  has  certainly  been  doing  too  much.  We  can  put 
it  on  that  score." 

"  Who  has  been  objecting  to  the  hours  that  Miss 
Marchrose  puts  in?  "  demanded  Fairfax  Fuller  bluntly. 

Edna's  little  smile  admirably  blended  a  protest  at 
the  question  and  a  quiet  determination  to  leave  it  un- 
answered. 

"Because,"  said  Fuller,  "  if  you'll  be  good  enough 
to  tell  that  person  to  address  his  or  her  complaint  to 
me,  Lady  Rossiter,  I  will  deal  with  it  in  the  proper  way. 
I  never  yet  heard  of  a  good  worker  being  sent  off  duty 


TENSION  229 

early  because  a  slack  one  didn't  like  the  sight  of 
over- work." 

"  Come,  come,  Fuller,"  said  the  Alderman  uncer- 
tainly. 

Fairfax  Fuller  turned  a  black  gaze  upon  him  that 
actually  caused  the  old  man  to  move  his  chair  back- 
wards. 

"  Leave  it  alone,  Edna,"  said  her  husband.  "If 
there's  jealousy  amongst  the  staff,  Fuller  is  quite  right 
in  saying  that  he's  the  person  to  adjust  it.  They  had 
no  business  to  appeal  to  you." 

"  You  force  me  to  speak  plainly,"  said  Lady  Rossi- 
ter.  "  It  isn't  only  a  little  jealousy,  though  there  is 
that  as  well.  But  —  to  put  things  exactly  as  they  are 
-  the  staff  doesn't  like  the  habit  that  Miss  Marchrose 
has  fallen  into  of  staying  on  overtime  till  all  hours, 
and  then  being  taken  home.  And,  frankly,  I  don't 
think  you  can  blame  them.  That  sort  of  thing  isn't 
done.  It  makes  talk  at  once." 

"  Evidently." 

The  fury  in  Fuller's  voice  was  hardly  suppressed. 

"  I  believe  that  I  am  not  censorious,"  said  Lady 
Rossiter.  "  It  is  utterly  foreign  to  my  nature,  and 
I  would  sooner  blind  myself  to  evil  than  look  out 
for  it  —  yet  there  are  things  which  go  against  one's 
every  instinct.  This  is  a  very  little  community  and 
has  always  been  a  very  peaceful  and  happy  one.  It 
hurts  me  very  much,  somehow,  that  there  should 
be  talk  of  the  kind  that  I  know  has  been  going  on 
lately." 

"  Mischief -making "  muttered  Fuller  fiercely 

and  without  completing  his  sentence. 


23o  TENSION 

"  Officiousness  is  the  curse  of  the  age !  "  exclaimed 
Sir  Julian,  neither  for  the  first  nor  the  second  time. 
"Why  can't  people  mind  their  own  business?  What 
has  it  to  do  with  them?  "  As  he  spoke,  some  part  of 
his  mind  commented  upon  the  futility  of  these  dis- 
jointed exclamations,  and  the  irrationality  of  the  desire 
to  gain  time  that  had  caused  him  to  utter  them. 

The  three  men  gazed  at  Lady  Rossiter. 

"  Oh,  how  I  hate  saying  it !  "  she  cried  in  an  im- 
pulsive manner.  "  It  isn't  that  I  think  there's  any 
harm  in  it  all  —  indeed,  I  don't.  But  I  myself  have 
seen  little  things  —  tiny,  infinitesimal  incidents,  if  you 
like  —  that  somehow  seem  to  carry  significance  by 
repetition.  That  sort  of  thing  doesn't  do." 

She  looked  at  her  listeners  for  an  instant,  and  made 
inevitable  selection  amongst  them. 

She  turned  to  the  Alderman  appealingly. 

"  I'm  only  a  woman,  but  I  know  that  sort  of  thing 
doesn't  do  in  business  offices.  Isn't  it  true?" 

"  Quite  true,  Lady  Rossiter,"  said  the  Alderman  in- 
stantly. "  It's  an  undesirable  sort  of  element  alto- 
gether. And  once  people  start  talking  —  especially  a 
lot  of  girls,  if  you'll  excuse  my  saying  so  —  it's  hope- 
less. It  ought  to  be  got  rid  of.". 

Edna  hesitated  a  moment.     Then  she  said : 

"  Shall  I  —  shall  I  speak  to  poor  Miss  Marchrose  ? 
It  might  be  easier  for  another  woman  to  do  it,  and  I 
don't  think  she  would  resent  it  from  me." 

Two,  at  least,  of  those  present  might  reasonably 
have  received  this  assertion  with  a  considerable  amount 
of  surprise,  in  view  of  certain  past  incidents  apparently 
shrouded  in  complete  oblivion  by  the  forgiving  Lady 
Rossiter. 


TENSION  231 

The  Alderman  was  less  responsive  this  time. 

"  It's  very  good  of  you,  Lady  Rossiter  —  very  good 
indeed.  I'm  sure  we  all  appreciate  your  keen  interest 
in  the  welfare  of  the  College  and  the  staff.  But  at  the 

same  time  —  I  don't  know "  He  stopped  rather 

helplessly. 

"  You  mustn't  think  of  me,"  gently  said  Edna. 
"  Just  speak  out,  quite  frankly,  and  tell  me  what  would 
be  best  for  everyone.  Anything  I  can  do,  you 
know " 

"  The  fact  is,  it's  least  said  soonest  mended,  in  these 
cases,"  blurted  out  the  Alderman.  "  The  girl  had  bet- 
ter go.  Don't  you  agree  with  me,  Sir  Julian?" 

"  It  will  probably  end  in  that." 

There  was  a  certain  surprise  visible  on  Lady  Ros- 
siter's  face  as  she  heard  her  husband's  reply. 

"  It's  her  livelihood,"  she  reminded  them ;  "  we 
mustn't  forget  that.  But  at  the  same  time,  the  Col- 
lege interests  come  first,  and  the  one  thing  to  be 
avoided,  at  any  cost,  is  a  crisis.  So  much  can  be  done 
by  staving  things  off." 

"  The  doctrine  of  expediency,"  inaudibly  muttered 
Julian  through  his  teeth. 

It  was  a  doctrine  that  had  never  failed  to  rouse  him 
to  wrath. 

Fairfax  Fuller's  deep,  angry  voice  broke  out  sud- 
denly : 

"  I  should  like  to  know  what  the  girl  is  being  ac- 
cused of,  that  we  should  send  away  the  best  worker 
we've  ever  struck." 

No  one  replied,  until  Edna  said  solemnly,  "  I  accuse 


no  one." 


"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Lady  Rossiter,  but  it  is  too  late 


232  TENSION 

to  say  that  now.  The  girl  has  been  accused,  and  she 
knows  it,  and  everyone  else  knows  it.  The  whole  thing 
is  in  the  air.  The  place  stinks  of  it,"  said  Mr.  Fuller 
with  reckless  candour.  "  There  was  some  talk  of  my 
being  sent  off  to  Gloucester  on  business,  but  I  don't 
leave  this  place  until  this  mess  is  cleared  up.  Why, 
the  atmosphere  is  like  a  barrel  of  gunpowder,  simply 
waiting  for  a  lighted  match." 

'Then  why  light  it,  Mr.  Fuller?"  sweetly  enquired 
Lady  Rossiter.  "  Why  insist  upon  having  things  put 
into  words?  " 

"  Because  it's  common  justice,"  said  Mr.  Fuller  dog- 
gedly. "  We  can't  send  the  girl  away  without  giving 
her  a  reason,  and  there  isn't  a  reason  to  give,  that  I 
can  see." 

"  That  question  will  rest  with  the  directors,  surely," 
Lady  Rossiter  reminded  him.  She  looked  straight  at 
Alderman  Bellew. 

"  She'll  know  fast  enough  what  the  reason  is,  with- 
out being  told,"  the  Alderman  gloomily  supported  the 
lady.  "  She's  not  a  chicken.  A  girl  with  any  business 
experience  knows  very  well  that  this  sort  of  thing  isn't 
tolerated  in  any  office.  Nothing  serious,  of  course,  as 
Lady  Rossiter  has  just  said,  but  it  makes  talk,  and  it 
won't  do." 

Fuller  swung  round  and  faced  the  Alderman. 

"  I'd  like  to  have  the  sort  of  thing  you've  just  al- 
luded to,  specified.  I'm  Supervisor  of  this  staff,  and 
I've  nothing  against  Miss  Marchrose." 

"  As  you  have  just  been  reminded,"  pointedly  said 
the  Alderman,  also  becoming  heated,  "  the  question 
rests  ultimately  with  the  directors." 


TENSION  233 

"  Then  my  position  here  is  a  farce,"  the  Supervisor 
retorted. 

"  Anything  but  that,  Mr.  Fuller/'  said  Edna  earn- 
estly, and  with  the  evident  intention  of  laying  a  sooth- 
ing hand  upon  his  arm. 

Fuller  almost  backed  into  the  wall  in  his  avoidance 
of  it. 

"  Indeed,"  said  Lady  Rossiter  pleadingly,  "  no  one 
minimises  your  position  here,  nor  the  responsibility 
that  rests  upon  you  with  regard  to  the  staff.  But  you 
force  me  to  say  something  that  I  would  much,  much 
rather  leave  unsaid." 

Sir  Julian  wondered  whether  it  would  be  of  any  use 
to  ask  her  to  do  so,  and  decided  that  it  would  not. 

"  I  used  to  hear  about  this  poor  creature  years  be- 
fore she  ever  came  here.  It  isn't  the  first  time  that 
there's  been  —  trouble." 

Sir  Julian's  eyes  almost  involuntarily  met  those  of 
the  Alderman  as  this  pregnant  announcement  fell  upon 
the  air.  'He  interposed  in  a  level  voice: 

"  My  wife  means  nothing  that  is  derogatory  to  Miss 
Marchrose,  Mr.  Bellew.  We  are,  however,  in  a  posi- 
tion to  know  that  a  few  years  ago  she  broke  off  an  en- 
gagement of  marriage  under  circumstances  that  were 
certainly  painful,  but  perfectly  honourable  to  herself. 
That  matter,  of  course,  concerns  her  private  life,  and 
has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  point  at  issue." 

"  Excepting  this,  Julian,"  his  wife  said  resolutely, 
"  that  a  girl  who  has  once  put  herself  into  a  false  posi- 
tion of  that  kind  is  liable  to  do  the  same  sort  of  thing 
again." 

"  She  may  get  engaged  to  the  whole  office  one  after 


234  TENSION 

another  and  chuck  them  next  day,  for  all  I  care,  so 
long  as  she  does  her  work  properly,"  said  Fuller,  quite 
as  resolutely  as,  and  a  good  deal  more  vehemently  than, 
Lady  Rossiter. 

"  It  would  scarcely  be  good  for  the  office  generally," 
replied  Edna  drily. 

"  Now,  my  dear  fellow,"  began  the  Alderman,  "  you 
must  look  at  this  matter  in  the  light  of  reason.  The 
greater  good  of  the  greater  number,  you  know.  This 
young  woman  mustn't  be  allowed  to  upset  the  office." 

"  She  hasn't  done  so." 

"  On  your  own  showing,  Mr.  Fuller,"  said  Lady 
Rossiter,  very  much  in  the  tone  of  one  endeavouring  to 
reason  with  an  idiot,  "  and  to  quote  your  own  words  of 
a  few  moments  ago,  the  whole  thing  is  in  the  air. 
Everybody  is  upset  and  disturbed,  because  it  is  im- 
possible for  anybody  to  give  out  reckless  and  excited 
and  undisciplined  thoughts  and  emotions  without  their 
having  an  effect  upon  his  or  her  surroundings.  It 
is " 

"  I've  yet  to  learn,"  Mr.  Fuller  interrupted,  without 
the  slightest  ceremony,  "  that  a  first-class  worker  can 
be  dismissed  on  account  of  thinking." 

"  Fuller,  Fuller,  Fuller!"  bleated  the  Alderman,  in 
an  expostulatory  tone. 

"  We  can  discuss  this  later  on,  Fuller,"  said  Sir 
Julian  wearily. 

"  Sir  Julian,  I  prefer  to  make  my  attitude  perfectly 

clear  to  you  at  once "  began  Mr.  Fuller  with  great 

vehemence,  when  Mark  Easter  came  back  into  the  room. 

Although  the  inopportuneness  of  an  abrupt  silence 
striking  through  the  excited  conversation  that  had 
raged  a  moment  before  was  evident  to  the  point  of 


TENSION  235 

blatancy,  an  immediate  dumbness  fell  upon  everyone  as 
the  door  opened  before  Mark. 

To  Sir  Julian's  perception,  it  was  oddly  significant 
that  Mark,  after  one  quick  glance  from  face  to  face, 
should  remain  silent  and  unsmiling,  asking  no  ques- 
tion. 

It  was  the  woman  present  who  haltingly  broke 
through  the  awkward  pause. 

"  We  were  just  wondering  if  —  if  there  was  to  be 
any  tea  for  us.  A  Committee  meeting  in  the  afternoon 
is  so  unusual  for  the  College,  isn't  it?  We  hardly 
know  ourselves,  when  it  isn't  the  ordinary  eleven 
o'clock  meeting." 

:<  There  is  tea  in  Miss  Marchrose's  room,"  said 
Mark. 

He  spoke  without  expression. 

"  Oh,  thank  you,"  said  Edna,  from  pure  nervousness, 
and  walked  out  of  the  room. 

Sir  Julian  followed  her,  partly  from  sheer  desire 
not  to  be  confronted  with  his  infuriated  Supervisor, 
and  partly  from  a  wish  to  see  Miss  Marchrose  herself. 

She  passed  them  in  the  passage,  and  Edna  inclined 
her  head  without  speaking,  and  walked  on. 

Sir  Julian  stopped. 

"  Are  you  coming  to  give  us  some  tea?  "  he  asked 
her. 

"  Yes  —  No.  No  —  I  don't  think  so,"  she  said  con- 
fusedly, her  pale  face  colouring  unmistakably. 

Sir  Julian  felt  vaguely  disappointed.  He  had  ex- 
pected that  the  consciousness  of  antagonism  in  the  air 
would  have  roused  in  her  a  certain  latent  defiance  al- 
ready dimly  foreshadowed  in  her  erect  bearing  and 
abrupt,  defensive  phraseology.  But  she  was  looking 


236  TENSION 

tired  already,  and  frightened,  as  though  she  realised 
herself  to  be  very  much  alone. 

"  Are  you  busy  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  am,  rather." 

She  looked  at  him  doubtfully,  and  once  more  he 
saw  the  shadow  of  fear,  unmistakable,  in  her  dark- 
circled  eyes. 

He  did  not  know  what  else  to  say,  although  he  felt 
very  sorry  for  her,  and  he  thought  that  for  a  moment 
she  seemed  about  to  say  something  further. 

But  she  only  opened  her  lips  for  an  instant  and  then 
turned  away  without  speaking. 

"  Good-bye,"  said  Sir  Julian  lamely. 

"  Good-bye." 

He  waited  thoughtfully  outside  the  College  for  Lady 
Rossiter,  nor  did  the  entertainment  of  afternoon  tea 
prolong  itself. 

She  came  out,  followed  by  Mark  Easter. 

"  Will  you  have  a  lift,  Mark?" 

"  Thank  you,  I've  got  one  or  two  things  to  finish 
here." 

Julian,  being  well  aware  that  at  this  Edna  was  en- 
deavouring to  exchange  with  him  a  sudden,  meaning 
glance,  became  instantly  absorbed  in  the  mechanism  of 
the  car. 

"  Mark,  don't  do  that.  Do  come  back  with  us  now," 
said  Lady  Rossiter  earnestly,  and  irresistibly  and 
quite  involuntarily  reminding  Sir  Julian  of  the  heroine 
of  a  certain  type  of  fiction,  pleading  at  the  door  of  the 
public-house,  "  Bill,  come  home  with  me  now." 

He  stifled  the  ribald  association  and  started  the 
engine. 

"  You'll  walk  back  then,  later?  " 


TENSION  237 

"  Come  back  with  us,  Mark/'  repeated  Lady  Ros- 
siter. 

Sir  Julian  opened  the  door  of  the  car. 

"  Why  are  you  in  such  a  hurry?  "  demanded  Lady 
.Rossiter  resentfully,  in  an  undertone. 

"  Perhaps  we  could  wait  for  you,  Mark,  if  you're 
only  going  to  be  a  little  while." 

"  I'm  afraid  I  shall  be  longer  than  that,"  said  Mark, 
looking  harassed. 

"  That's  all  right,"  said  Sir  Julian  firmly,  and  took 
his  seat  in  the  driver's  place. 

Lady  Rossiter  reluctantly  stepped  into  the  car  beside 
him. 

They  saw  Mark  turn  into  the  College  again  as  the 
car  moved  from  the  door. 

"  I  am  utterly  exhausted,"  said  Edna. 

Her  husband,  according  to  his  wont,  made  no  re- 
sponse, and  she  presently  spoke  again. 

"  Couldn't  you  feel  the  tension  in  that  place,  Julian?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  You  are  not  a  fanciful  person,  perhaps  not  even 
a  very  perceptive  one,  and  certainly  Mr.  Fuller  is 
neither.  Yet  both  you  and  he  were  on  edge.  I  could 
see  it  and  feel  it." 

"  And  hear  it  too,  I  imagine,  so  far  as  Fuller  was 
concerned,"  said  Sir  Julian,  not  without  reason. 

"  One  does  not  expect  very  great  self-command  from 
a  man  of  his  type.  But  I'm  frightened,  Julian,  I  tell 
you  honestly.  You  know  how  extraordinarily  suscept- 
ible I  am  to  the  influence  of  a  thought-form?  " 

"  Of  a  what?  "  said  Sir  Julian,  having  heard  her 
perfectly,  but  being  desirous  of  venting  his  own  sense 
of  uneasiness  in  ill-temper. 


238  TENSION 

"  Perhaps  I  used  an  out-of-the-way  expression.  But 
you  know  what  I  mean,  surely.  On  another  plane  — 
on  that  is  perhaps  not  so  far  removed  from  our  own 
as  we  sometimes  think  —  these  things  are  classified. 
I  have  no  psychic  gifts  myself,"  said  Edna,  in  a  modest 
way  that  positively  seemed  to  imply  a  certain  distinc- 
tion in  the  absence  of  those  attributes,  "  but  undoubt- 
edly there  are  those  amongst  us  who  can  absolutely  see 
and  translate  into  terms  of  colour  and  shape  for  the 
rest  of  us." 

"  I  feel  sure  that  the  colour  and  shape  of  any  thought- 
form  belonging  to  Fuller  at  the  present  moment  would 
repay  inspection,"  said  Sir  Julian  grimly. 

"  Ah,  poor  Mr.  Fuller !  It  hurt  one,  didn't  it  ? 
Prejudice  and  violence  and  ignorance  —  the  three  foes 
that  we,  who  can  see  a  little  further  into  the  great, 
wonderful  Heart  of  Life,  have  to  fight  against  all 
the  time.  But  sometimes  it  does  feel  as  though  all 
one's  love  and  pity  were  being  flung  back  upon  oneself 
again,  as  though  a  hard  wall  of  resistance  were  oppos- 
ing everything." 

Edna  gasped  a  little. 

Her  husband  wondered  so  much  whom  she  sup- 
posed herself  to  have  been  loving  and  pitying  that 
afternoon,  that  he  felt  constrained  to  ask  the  question 
aloud. 

"But  all  —  all  of  them!" 

Edna,  usually  undemonstrative,  flung  apart  her 
hands  in  an  expressive  gesture. 

"How  can  you  ask,  even?  The  pity  of  it  all, 
Julian !  That  was  what  wrung  my  heart.  .  .  .  Oh, 
Julian!  be  careful." 

Sir  Julian,  most  skilful  of  drivers,  had  sent  the  car 


TENSION  239 

swerving  recklessly  round  the  harp  corner  of  Culm- 
hayes  drive. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Edna." 

Both  were  silent  till  the  house  was  reached.  The 
topic  that  occupied  them  both,  however,  was  revived 
that  evening. 

This  time  Edna  approached  it  from  a  less  exalted 
point  of  view. 

"  It's  very  curious  how  much  these  people  absorb 
one's  thoughts.  And  yet,  of  course,  it's  not  curious 
at  all.  They're  fellow-creatures,  after  all.  Some- 
times I  think  the  old  Alderman  is  quite  right.  The 
best  thing  would  be  for  Miss  Marchrose  to  go.  I  wish 
she  would  resign  of  her  own  accord." 

"  I  think,"  said  Sir  Julian,  "  that  there  is  every 
chance  of  your  wish  being  realised." 

"Why?" 

"  It's  a  question,"  said  Sir  Julian,  very  distinctly, 
"of  exactly  how  long  she  can  stand  her  ground.  She 
is  a  very  intelligent  person,  and,  unless  I  am  greatly 
mistaken,  a  very  sensitive  one,  and  my  own  opinion  is 
that  she  will  be  defeated  early  in  the  day  by  the  mere 
atmospheric  pressure  against  her." 

"  You  mean  that  she  will  feel,  without  having  it  put 
into  words,  that  things  can't  go  on  as  they  are  at 
present?" 

"  It  wouldn't  need  very  keen  perceptions  to  have 
come  to  that  conclusion  already." 

"  Perhaps  not."  Lady  Rossiter  spoke  thoughtfully. 
"  You  see,  the  one  thing  one  doesn't  want,  is  to  have 
things  put  into  words." 

Sir  Julian,  disagreeing  with  her  even  more  com- 
pletely than  he  usually  did,  answered  nothing. 


240  TENSION 

"  It's  Mark  I'm  thinking  of  principally.  At  the 
present  moment  I  honestly  believe  that  Mark,  who  is 
exceptionally  simple,  hardly  realises  that  anything  has 
upset  the  College.  Certainly  he  won't  attribute  it  - 
yet  —  to  the  way  in  which  that  unfortunate  young 
woman  has  been  behaving." 

"  Why  should  he  attribute  it  to  her  behaviour  any 
more  than  to  his  own?"  Sir  Julian  reasonably  en- 
quired. "  It  usually  requires  the  behaviour  of  two 
people  to  start  this  sort  of  idiotic  gossiping." 

"  Mark  has  been  foolish,  I  daresay,"  coldly  said 
Lady  Rossiter.  "  All  men  are  alike  in  these  matters, 
and  when  a  woman  hurls  herself  at  a  man's  head  you 
can't  expect  him  not  to  take  a  certain  amount  of  ad- 
vantage." 

"Of  what,  exactly,  has  this  hurling  consisted?" 
demanded  Sir  Julian,  with  an  air  of  judicial  impartial- 
ity. 

'  You  have  seen  quite  as  much  as  I  have,"  Lady 
Rossiter  mistakenly  informed  him;  "she  never  has  a 
civil  word  for  anyone  else,  and  she  is  perfectly  brazen 
in  boasting  of  the  amount  of  extra  work  she  does  for 
him.  She  haunted  the  estate  office  when  that  other 
girl  was  ill,  and  took  over  her  typewriting  work  in  the 
calmest  way.  Of  course,  it  was  practically  impossible 
for  Mark  to  refuse,  when  she  insisted.  And,  of  course, 
there's  her  fashion  of  getting  him  to  walk  home  with 
her  after  dark  every  night." 

"  And  all  this  would  be  perfectly  legitimate  and  de- 
sirable if  only  Mark's  dipsomaniac  was  in  a  better 
world  instead  of  in  this  one,"  was  the  thoughtful 
resume  of  Sir  Julian  —  a  resume  of  which  the  wording, 
if  not  the  substance,  found  so  little  favour  in  his  wife's 


TENSION  241 

hearing  that  she  had  instant  resort  to  the  inevitable 
Roland  with  which  it  was  her  custom  to  counter  his 
time-honoured  Oliver. 

"  If  you  remember  anything  at  all  of  that  miserable 
affair  that  went  so  near  to  wrecking  poor  Clarence 
Isbister's  life,  you  can  hardly  say  that." 

Sir  Julian  wished  for  no  recapitulation  of  the  oft- 
told  tragedy  alluded  to. 

"  I  remember  perfectly.  He  battered  his  head 
against  the  walls  of  his  nursing-home,  and  I  think  any 
girl  was  well  rid  of  him  on  that  account  alone." 

Lady  Rossiter  rose  with  great  quiet. 

"  I  am  going  to  bed.  It  has  been  a  strain,  alto- 
gether. But,  after  all,  I  shall  feel  it's  been  worth  any- 
thing —  whatever  it  may  cost  me  —  if  only  one  can 
stave  off  any  sort  of  disastrous  crisis.  It  seems  to  me 
that,  at  the  moment,  the  one  thing  to  be  avoided  is  defi- 
nitely putting  things  into  words." 

"  Plain  speaking?  "  enquired  Sir  Julian.  "  It  is,  on 
the  contrary,  the  one  thing  that  I  should  really  like. 
But  don't  be  afraid,  Edna.  We  shan't  get  it  —  unless 
it's  from  Fuller." 


XVIII 

SIR  JULIAN'S  desire  for  plain  speaking  was  more 
amply  gratified  on  the  following  day  even  than  he  had 
anticipated.  He  had  purposely  made  an  early  appoint- 
ment at  the  College,  in  order  to  discuss  with  Mark  and 
the  Supervisor  the  question  of  the  journey  to  Glouces- 
ter, bit  he  was  aware  that  a  curiously  strong  sensation 
of  anxiety  constituted  an  underlying  motive  for  his 
presence  there. 

There  flashed  across  his  mind  the  dim  recollection  of 
a  conversation  in  which  he  had  taken  part,  with  Mark 
Easter  and  Miss  Marchrose,  one  afternoon  on  the  way 
from  Salt  Marsh  to  Culmhayes. 

They  had  agreed  in  their  estimate  of  the  potency  of 
an  atmosphere.  He  thought  it  was  Miss  Marchrose 
herself  who  had  said  that  "  the  worst  times  are  when 
nothing  at  all  has  happened,  and  yet  everything  is  hap- 
pening." 

Prophetic,  reflected  Julian,  half  amused.  He  made 
his  way  slowly  to  Mark  Easter's  room. 

A  feminine  voice,  lowered  to  that  penetrating  sibi- 
lance  which  most  infallibly  attracts  the  attention  which 
it  is  designed  to  escape,  reached  his  ears. 

" And  she  knew  I  was  looking  at  her,  too.     I 

could  tell  she  did,  by  the  way  she  coloured.  You  know. 
And  I  never  said  a  word.  Simply  looked  at  her,  you 
know.  '  Don't  let  me  disturb  you,'  I  said.  Like  that, 
quite  quietly." 

242 


TENSION  243 

Sir  Julian  pushed  the  half-open  door.  Miss  Farmer 
and  Miss  Sandiloe  stood  in  close  confabulation  just 
inside  the  room. 

"  Oh,  good  morning,  Sir  Julian."  They  both  looked 
much  confused. 

"  Good  morning,"  he  said  gravely.  "  Mr.  Easter 
has  not  arrived  yet?  " 

"  No,"  said  Miss  Sandiloe,  ever  ready  of  speech, 
in  spite  of  her  manifest  discomfiture. 

"  No,  he  hasn't.  He  very  often  gets  in  rather  later 
these  mornings." 

"  I  can  wait,"  said  Sir  Julian.  "  It's  not  ten  o'clock 
yet." 

Miss  Farmer  began  to  sidle  towards  the  door.  Her 
companion  followed  her,  but  was  inspired  to  turn 
round  and  add  an  unnecessary  rider  to  her  last  observa- 
tion. 

"  Mr.  Easter  is  always  here  so  late  in  the  evenings 
now,  too,"  she  remarked  artlessly,  as  she  went  out  of 
the  room. 

Sir  Julian  heard  a  nervous  giggle  as  the  door  closed 
behind  them  both,  and  he  thought  that  Miss  Farmer 
ejaculated  something  that  sounded  like,  "  However  you 
could,  Sandiloe !  " 

"  If  Miss  Marchrose  has  been  up  against  that  sort 
of  thing  for  the  last  week  .  .  ."  was  his  unformulated 
thought. 

A  further  example  of  "  that  sort  of  thing  "  con- 
fronted him  in  the  entrance  hall,  where  he  presently  be- 
took himself  restlessly. 

Three  girls,  all  of  them  pupil-teachers  of  the  College, 
with  young  Cooper,  the  Financial  Secretary,  stood  near 
the  notice-board.  Their  necks  were  craned  forward, 


244  TENSION 

and  their  eyes,  expressive  of  curiosity,  suspicion  and 
a  certain  excitement,  were  unanimously  following  the 
tall,  slight  figure  of  Miss  Marchrose  as  she  disappeared 
towards  a  distant  classroom. 

"  Good  morning,"  said  Sir  Julian,  with  extreme 
abruptness,  and  in  tones  not  usually  associated  with 
a  morning  greeting. 

Everyone  jumped  violently. 

The  three  pupil-teachers  disappeared  with  celerity, 
and  Mr.  Cooper  turned  a  brick-red  countenance  upon 
his  chief. 

"  Just  looking  at  the  notice-board,"  he  said,  in  an 
affable  manner. 

!{ There  appears  to  be  nothing  on  it,"  Sir  Julian 
made  rejoinder,  with  equal  obviousness,  but  in  a  voice 
that  was  not  without  point. 

"  Nothing  at  all,"  agreed  Mr.  Cooper,  rather  fever- 
ishly, and  running  a  hand  across  the  green  baize  square 
as  though  further  to  demonstrate  its  bareness. 

"  I  see  you're  in  early,  Sir  Julian." 

"  I  have  an  appointment  with  Mr.  Easter,  but  I'm 
rather  too  soon.  Fuller  is  in  class,  I  suppose?  " 

'  Yes,  Sir  Julian.  Let  me  see,"  Cooper  produced 
his  wrist-watch.  "  I'll  look  at  the  time.  Yes.  He'll 
be  in  class  for  the  next  three-quarters  of  an  hour. 
Shall  I  send  for  him,  Sir  Julian?  " 

"  No,  thanks.  I'm  in  no  hurry.  There's  just  the 
question  of  the  place  to  be  opened  at  Gloucester. 
You've  heard  about  it,  haven't  you,  Cooper?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  Sir  Julian.  The  whole  staff  has  been 
much  interested,  and  very  proud  too,  if  I  may  say  so. 
I'd  even  thought  —  I  don't  know  if  I  may  ven- 
ture  " 


TENSION  245 

"  Are  you  a  candidate  for  the  job  of  going  down 
there  next  week?  ''  Sir  Julian  asked,  smiling. 

"  Not  myself,"  said  Mr.  Cooper.  "  I  may  even  say, 
Sir  Julian,  that  I  doubt  if  I  could  be  spared  at  the 
moment.  We  have  one  or  two  French  scholars,  and 
the  accountancy  is  particularly  heavy  just  now.  Of 
course,  it's  what  you  wish,  Sir  Julian,  but  I  hardly 
think  I  could  leave  at  present,  even  for  a  day  or  two. 
But  I  was  wondering  whether  I  might  venture  a  sug- 
gestion." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Sir  Julian,  rather  astonished. 

"  It  has  occurred  to  me,"  remarked  Mr.  Cooper, 
with  a  certain  pompousness,  "  that  Miss  Marchrose 
wrould  not  be  at  all  unfitted  to  do  what's  required. 
And  a  little  change  might  be  rather  a  good  thing  for 
her,  in  its  way,  Sir  Julian." 

"Indeed?" 

"  There's  been  a  certain  amount  of  feeling,  I'm 
afraid,  just  lately." 

"  I  should  like  details,  if  you  please." 

"  One  hardly  likes  to  say  anything,"  Mr.  Cooper 
began,  with  great  and  evident  satisfaction.  "  She's  a 
splendid  worker,  as  you  know,  Sir  Julian,  and  the  other 
young  ladies  took  to  her  quite  wonderfully  from  the 
start.  Quite  foolish,  one  or  two  of  them  were  about 
her.  But  the  fact  is,  if  you'll  excuse  my  mentioning 
it,  she's  been  rather  indiscreet  of  late." 

"  Go  on,"  said  Julian  in  level  tones,  as  Cooper 
waited,  apparently  for  some  sign  of  encouragement. 

"  The  fact  is,  to  put  the  whole  matter  in  a  nutshell, 
some  of  them  have  got  talking.  You  know  what  that 
means,  especially  with  one  or  two  rather  excitable 
young  ladies." 


246  TENSION 

There  was  a  pause,  during  which  Julian  recollected 
Mr.  Coopers  old-time  predilection  for  the  society  of 
Miss  Sandiloe. 

"  She  hasn't  made  any  secret  of  liking  Mr.  Mark 
Easter's  society  very  much,  and  she's  given  him  a  good 
deal  of  hers.  That's  all  it  amounts  to,"  said  Mr. 
Cooper,  with  a  great  effect  of  frankness. 

"  He  has  found  her  useful  for  some  of  the  extra 
work." 

"  No  doubt,  Sir  Julian.  That's  all  it  is.  But  she's 
in  that  office  of  his  nearly  as  often  as  she's  in  her 
own,  and  then  they've  been  late  a  good  many  evenings 
and  stayed  on  here  working  after  the  College  was  sup- 
posed to  be  closed.  It  was  also  known,  Sir  Julian, 
that  the  present  Mrs.  Douglas  Garrett  —  Miss  Easter 
that  was  —  used  to  ask  Miss  Marchrose  to  her  brother's 
house  a  good  deal  while  she  was  home." 

"  We  are  not  in  the  least  responsible  for  what  the 
staff  may  do  out  of  hours." 

"  Certainly  not,  Sir  Julian.  And  of  course  we  all 
know  and  like  Mr.  Mark  Easter,  and  I've  no  doubt 
that  he's  never  said  a  word  to  her  that  we  mightn't  all 
have  heard.  But  somehow,"  said  Mr.  Cooper,  with 
a  fatalistic  expression,  "  somehow,  the  staff  have  got 
talking." 

"  It  doesn't  concern  them  in  any  way  whatever." 

"  Those  were  my  very  words,"  Mr.  Cooper  replied 
impressively,  "  my  very  words,  when  one  of  the  young 
ladies  approached  me  on  the  subject.  This  is  an  affair 
which  concerns  no  one  but  Mr.  Mark  Easter,  I  said, 
and  you  may  be  sure  that  he  will  deal  with  it  in  the 
best  manner  possible.  In  fact,  I  said,  if  this  unfor- 
tunate young  lady  has  forgotten  the  circumstances 


TENSION  247 

of  the  case,  we  may  be  quite  sure  that  Mr.  Easter 
will  himself  take  an  early  opportunity  of  reminding 
her." 

Mr.  Cooper's  tone  implied  that  no  more  triumphantly 
satisfactory  denouement  could  be  hoped  for. 

"And  do  you  suppose  that  he  has  done  so?"  en- 
quired Sir  Julian,  from  sheer  curiosity  to  hear  Mr. 
Cooper's  reply. 

Cooper  shook  his  head  from  side  to  side. 

"  I  couldn't  say  at  all,  Sir  Julian.  There's  been  a 
very  uncomfortable  state  of  things  prevailing  for  the 
last  few  days,  altogether.  I  couldn't  put  a  finger  on 
any  one  thing  not  to  give  a  name  to  it,  but  there's  con- 
straint, Sir  Julian,  and  we  all  feel  it.  This  has  always 
been  such  a  friendly  little  party,  that  one  can't  help 
noticing,  like." 

"  I  shall  be  greatly  obliged,  Cooper,"  said  Sir  Julian 
with  deliberation,  ''if  you  would  check  this  tittle- 
tattling,  as  far  as  possible.  It  is  extraordinarily  ob- 
jectionable." 

Cooper  looked  far  from  hopeful. 

"  She'll  have  to  pull  herself  up,  as  it  were,  or  else 
leave  altogether,  Sir  Julian.  Otherwise  I  don't  see 
what's  to  prevent  the  staff  from  getting  talking." 

Sir  Julian  perceived  that  no  amount  of  words  would 
remove  from  Mr.  Cooper  his  conviction  of  the  in- 
evitability of  the  calamity  which  he  described  as  the 
"  getting  talking  "  of  his  fellow-workers. 

"  I  shall  think  the  matter  over.  Certainly  we  can't 
have  this  sort  of  atmosphere  in  the  place.  It's  up- 
setting everyone." 

"  That  is  so,  Sir  Julian.  It's  the  talk  that's  doing 
the  harm,"  said  Mr.  Cooper  solemnly. 


248  TENSION 

"  Certainly  it  is.  I  hope  there  will  be  no  more  of 
it." 

Sir  Julian's  hope  was  uttered  for  rhetorical  pur- 
poses merely.  His  never  very  sanguine  outlook  had 
been  in  no  way  illuminated  by  the  eloquence  of  Mr. 
Cooper. 

"  Don't  let  me  keep  you  any  longer,  Cooper ;  I  know 
you're  busy." 

'  Thank  you,  Sir  Julian.  If  you'll  excuse  me.  My 
watch  —  ten  minutes  past  —  then  I'll  go  straight  to 
Classroom  III  —  up  the  stairs." 

Mr.  Cooper  hurried  away,  taking  two  steps  at  a 
time. 

Sir  Julian's  discussion  with  Mark  was  completed 
rapidly  enough. 

"  I'm  quite  ready  to  see  this  Gloucester  affair 
through,"  said  Mark,  looking  out  of  the  window- 
"  Fuller  doesn't  seem  anxious  to  take  it  on." 

"  Can  you  spare  the  time  ?  " 

"  Easily." 

"  To-day  is  Friday.     What  about  Monday?  " 

"  Right." 

Mark  said  nothing  more.  The  tiny  furrow  between 
his  eyes  had  deepened  a  very  little, 

They  spoke  of  business  for  a  little  while  and  then 
Sir  Julian  left  Mark  in  solitary  possession  of  the  small 
office. 

As  he  came  away  he  encountered  Miss  Marchrose. 

Her  observation  was  worthy  of  Mr.  Cooper. 

"  I'm  going  to  the  High  Speed  room,"  she  sa'd,  with 
evident  nervousness. 

"  Are  you  giving  another  test  there  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no.     We're  very  slack  at  present.     The  last 


TENSION  249 

lot  have  gone  out,  and  we  mostly  have  beginners.  But 
I  want  to  put  some  things  away." 

She  was  quite  evidently  defending  herself  against 
some  unspoken  accusation. 

As  she  turned  away,  she  looked  back  at  Sir  Julian, 
again  with  that  suggestion  of  wishing  to  say  some- 
thing further. 

"  What  is  it?  "  he  asked,  almost  involuntarily. 

"  Nothing,"  said  Miss  Marchrose,  her  voice  catch- 
ing in  her  throat. 

Sir  Julian  walked  away  slowly. 

"  Sir  Julian !  "  she  said,  rather  breathlessly. 

He  turned  at  once. 

"  Are  you  —  are  you  just  going?  " 

"  I  am  in  no  hurry." 

He  reflected  for  an  instant  and  then  decided  to  take 
her  wishes  for  granted. 

"  You  will  find  me  in  the  annexe.  There's  no  hurry, 
so  take  your  time  about  putting  the  papers  away.  I'll 
wait  for  you  there,"  said  Sir  Julian  calmly. 

He  waited  barely  five  minutes. 

She  came  into  the  room,  very  erect,  with  tension  in 
every  line  of  her  face  and  figure,  and  a  little  dent  com- 
ing and  going  at  the  corner  of  either  nostril. 

She  shut  the  door  quietly  behind  her. 

"  Sit  down,"  said  Sir  Julian,  placing  a  chair  for  her, 
so  that  she  could  lean  both  arms  on  the  table,  and 
steady  a  certain  tremulousness  of  which  he  suspected 
the  existence. 

In  order  to  give  her  time,  he  slowly  and  carefully 
took  out  and  lit  a  cigarette.  He  was  conscious  of  a 
sensation  of  surprise  in  the  midst  of  his  mingled  an- 
noyance and  compassion.  He  had  not  expected  her  to 


250  TENSION 

acknowledge  defeat  so  quickly,  and  he  wondered 
whether  some  element  of  which  he  knew  nothing  had 
been  introduced  into  the  invisible  contest  against 
her. 

"  I  think  I  shall  have  to  ask  you  to  accept  my  resig- 
nation," she  said  at  last,  in  a  sort  of  rush. 

11  I'm  sorry,"  said  Sir  Julian  carefully. 

"I've  spoken  to  Mr.  Fuller  about  it,  but  he  —  he 
was  a  little  bit  difficult." 

"  I  can  quite  believe  it." 

"  I  couldn't  get  him  to  accept  my  resignation  at 
all,"  she  said,  smiling  rather  forlornly. 

"  Fuller  is  not  easily  defeated." 

She  interpreted  his  thought  rather  more  accurately 
than  he  desired,  in  her  quick  rejoinder. 

"  And  I  am.  I  haven't  been  able  to  cope  with  the 
last  few  days  at  all.  Do  you  remember  how  we  talked 
about  atmosphere  one  afternoon  before  Christmas?  " 

"  On  the  way  back  from  Salt  Marsh?  I  was  think- 
ing about  it  not  so  very  long  ago." 

"  Then,"  said  Miss  Marchrose  slowly,  "  you  knew 
about  —  this  place  ?  " 

Sir  Julian  made  no  pretence  at  not  having  under- 
stood her. 

"  I  know  that  it  has  afforded  a  rather  poignant  ex- 
ample of  the  very  thing  we  discussed  that  afternoon," 
he  replied. 

"  I  thought  you  knew,"  she  said,  pushing  her  hair 
away  from  her  forehead  with  a  rapid,  nervous  move- 
ment. "  But  you  see  I'm  in  the  dark.  No  one  has 
said  a  single  word  to  me.  I'd  so  much  rather  they 
did." 

"  Yes,  I  can  understand  that.     But  you  see  no  one 


TENSION  251 

is  in  a  position  to  say  a  word  to  you,  except  —  officially 
—  Mr.  Fuller  as  Supervisor." 

11  Then  why  hasn't  he?  "  Miss  Marchrose  demanded, 
a  sudden  colour  flooding  her  pale  face. 

Sir  Julian  said  nothing,  for  the  conclusive  reason 
that  he  could  think  of  absolutely  nothing  to  say. 

"  He  told  me  to-day  that  my  services  had  been  per- 
fectly satisfactory,  and  that  he  didn't  want  me  to 
leave." 

"  I  know  he  doesn't." 

"  In  that  case,"  said  Miss  Marchrose,  "  I  must  place 
my  resignation  with  you  direct,  Sir  Julian." 

"Have  you  definitely  decided  to  resign?" 

"  I'm  afraid  so,"  she  said,  again  colouring  suddenly. 

Sir  Julian  once  more  kept  silence  from  a  helpless 
sense  of  the  impossibility  of  any  discussion,  although 
intuition  told  him  that  she  was  more  or  less  blindly  in 
search  of  a  safety-valve  for  her  perplexities. 

She  remained  in  her  chair  for  a  minute  or  two, 
looking  down  at  the  table,  and  only  a  very  slight,  in- 
voluntary movement  of  her  fingers  betrayed  the  ten- 
sion of  waiting. 

Sir  Julian  paid  the  penalty  sooner  or  later  exacted 
of  all  those  whose  perceptions  are  acute,  in  realising 
with  vividness  her  sense  of  bafflement  as  he  remained 
mute. 

With  a  sort  of  remnant  of  the  pluck  that  he  had 
always  credited  her  with,  she  rose  at  last  and  said, 
'  Thank  you  very  much,  Sir  Julian,"  quite  steadily. 

He  rose  also  and  opened  the  door,  and  she  went 
out. 

Sir  Julian  remained  more  than  ever  convinced  that 
some  very  forcible  factor,  of  which  he  was  still  un- 


252  TENSION 

aware,  had  entered  the  lists  against  her,  and  definitely 
defeated  her. 

"  It's  no  business  of  mine,"  he  reflected  to  him- 
self, almost  violently. 

Nevertheless,  he  had  more  to  hear  upon  the  sub- 
ject that  same  afternoon. 

He  met  Alderman  Bellew,  whose  discursive  com- 
ments were  not  to  be  stayed. 

"  Easter's  a  very  nice  chap,  you  know,"  said  the 
Alderman  sapiently.  "  I  don't  like  the  idea  of  this 
young  woman  making  a  fool  of  him.  He's  not  been 
looking  himself  for  the  last  day  or  two.  Didn't  you 
think  him  a  bit  off  colour  at  the  General  Meeting  yes- 
terday, now?  I  can  assure  you  that  he  didn't  look 
himself,  to  me.  He  looked "-  the  Alderman  low- 
ered his  voice  in  a  very  impressive  and  mysterious 
manner  — "  he  looked  ivorried." 

Sir  Julian  felt  inclined  to  ejaculate,  "  You  don't  say 
so !  "  at  this  bit  of  penetration,  but  the  Alderman  went 
on: 

"  It's  not  to  be  wondered  at,  either.  I  don't  know 
whether  you've  noticed  a  sort  of  disturbance  lately  in 
the  College  —  something  in  the  air?  " 

"  I  know  what  you  mean,"  Sir  Julian  said  truthfully, 
but  noncommittally. 

"  Exactly.  Just  what  Lady  Rossiter  was  speaking 
of  the  other  day.  Well,  now  that  sort  of  thing  won't 
do,  will  it  ?  It  upsets  the  staff  —  upsets  the  work  — 
upsets  that  chap  Fuller,  badly.  Took  it  very  much  to 
heart,  didn't  he?  I  suppose  he  thinks  it  reflects 
upon  his  credit  as  Supervisor,  when  things  go  wrong 
with  the  staff.  However,  it's  all  quite  easily  put  right, 
when  all's  said  and  done." 


TENSION  253 

Such  not  being  the  comfortable  conviction  of  Sir 
Julian,  he  waited  for  further  enlightenment. 

"  The  girl  can  go." 

"  Oh,"  said  Sir  Julian.  "  Yes.  The  girl  can  go, 
of  course." 

"  It  needn't  affect  her  references  in  any  way,"  said 
the  Alderman,  apparently  made  uneasy  by  something  in 
Sir  Julian's  tone. 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  There's  no  harm  in  the  girl,  I  daresay,  though 
I  don't  like  what  I  hear  of  those  antecedents  of 
hers." 

Sir  Julian  was  perfectly  well  aware  that  Miss  March- 
rose's  antecedents,  so  far  as  Alderman  Bellew's  knowl- 
edge of  them  was  concerned,  rested  upon  the  slender 
fabric  of  the  hints  thrown  out  by  Lady  Rossiter  on  the 
subject.  He  therefore  remained  unresponsive,  and  Al- 
derman Bellew  presently,  with  an  air  of  rather  puzzled 
reluctance,  abandoned  the  subject. 

"  It's  no  business  of  mine,"  Sir  Julian  told  himself 
with  increasing  vehemence,  as  his  perception  grew  of 
the  strength  of  the  league  that  was  so  successfully  fight- 
ing the  shadow  of  a  possibility. 

Even  Culmhayes  was  pervaded  by  unrest. 

Edna  was  silent  all  through  dinner,  except  when  the 
servants  were  in  the  room,  when  she  discoursed  in  an 
elevating  way  about  the  first  breath  of  spring,  and  a 
tiny  twitter  which  she  said  that  she  had  heard  in  the 
beech- wood  that  afternoon. 

Sir  Julian  heard  about  the  twitter  towards  February 
or  March  every  year,  and  received  the  news  of  it  with 
modified  enthusiasm  only. 

As  soon  as  they  were  alone,  Edna  drew  a  long  breath, 


254  TENSION 

flung  her  head  back,  and  said  with  a  sort  of  restrained 
ardour : 

"  Julian,  whom  do  you  suppose  I  met  this  afternoon 
in  the  beech- wood?  " 

'  The  first  squirrel  of  the  year,"  suggested  Sir 
Julian,  with  perfect  indifference. 

"  I  am  not  laughing." 

"  Neither  am  I.  Do  you  mean  a  human  being,  or  a 
harbinger  of  spring?  " 

"  I  met  Mark,"  said  Lady  Rossiter  very  gravely. 

Sir  Julian  peeled  a  walnut  attentively. 

"  It  seemed  —  I  say  it  in  all  reverence  —  like  an  an- 
swer to  prayer,  for  I  had  prayed  over  it  all.  Julian,  I 
was  miserable.  I  could  see  all  the  tangle  and  perplexity 
so  clearly,  and  yet  I  felt  bound  and  helpless.  I  could 
do  nothing  to  help  or  to  hinder." 

Julian  reflected  detachedly  that  his  wife  did  herself 
less  than  justice. 

"  And  then  I  met  Mark.  And  I  knew  as  soon  as  I 
saw  him  that  it  was  my  opportunity  for  helping.  It  is 
so  curious,  when  one  has  formed  the  habit  of  looking 
for  little  opportunities,  how  the  big  one  is  sure  to  come 
sooner  or  later.  Mark  wanted  help  badly,  Julian." 

Lady  Rossiter  waited  for  a  moment,  during  which 
her  husband  remained  motionless,  and  then  went  on 
speaking  in  slow,  even  tones. 

"  I  believe  in  courage,  as  you  know,  most  intensely. 
It  is  so  difficult,  sometimes,  to  break  through  our  con- 
ventional reserve.  It  was  so  to-day.  But  I  spoke. 
Mark  has  no  woman  in  his  life." 

"  I  can  hardly  agree  with  you,  in  the  circumstances," 
muttered  Julian  grimly,  but  his  wife  disregarded  the 
interruption. 


TENSION  255 

"  And  there  are  times  when  a  man  wants  a  woman 
to  whom  he  can  speak  freely.  Oh,  I  didn't  hurt  his 
chivalry  in  any  way  —  I  respect  it  far  too  much. 
Nothing  was  put  into  words  between  us,  practically  — 
but  everything  was  implied." 

"  At  the  moment,  Edna,  I  prefer  words  to  implica- 
tions, as  I  am  very  much  more  likely  to  understand 
them.  What  did  you  say  to  Mark?  " 

"  Very  little,"  said  Edna,  with  a  dignified  simplicity 
that  failed  entirely  to  convince  Sir  Julian  of  the  ac- 
curacy of  her  statement.  "  But,  thank  God,  I  believe 
I  have  made  certain  that  there  will  be  no  debacle  such 
as  one  could  not  help  dreading.  I  was  in  terror  that 
that  unfortunate  girl  should  try  to  force  an  issue." 

Sir  Julian  realised,  with  a  slight  shock  of  surprise, 
that  his  wife's  estimate  of  Miss  Marchrose's  capabilities 
of  enterprise  were  identical  with  his  own.  Edna,  he 
reflected,  did  not  yet  know  that  Miss  Marchrose  had, 
to  all  intents  and  purposes,  most  unmistakably  hauled 
down  her  colours  when  she  had  tendered  her  resigna- 
tion to  him  that  morning. 

"  How  are  you  to  prevent  her  from  forcing  an 
issue?  "  he  asked. 

"  It's  so  simple.  Mark  is  going  away  on  business, 
and  he  leaves  on  Saturday  instead  of  on  Monday.  A 
week  makes  a  long  break,  Julian,  in  a  case  like  this,  and 
she  will  either  understand  why  he  has  gone  without 
being  told,  or  she  will  find  her  position  intolerable,  and 
leave  the  College.  Even  if  she  stays  on  —  though  I 
think  it  impossible  that  she  should  —  they  will  begin 
again  on  a  very  different  footing.  Mark  understands 
now." 

"Understands  what,  in  Heaven's  name?" 


256  TENSION 

Edna  raised  her  eyebrows  and  made  a  significant 
gesture.  "  Mark  goes  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Thank  Heaven,  I  made  him  see  that  there 
is  greater  courage  in  turning  one's  back,  sometimes, 
than  in  facing  a  danger.  Every  day  that  passes,  as 
these  last  days  have  passed,  the  risk  of  an  explosion 
becomes  greater.  It's  like  skating  over  a  volcano." 

"  Nobody  ever  does  skate  over  volcanoes,"  said 
Julian,  almost  automatically.  His  mind  was  working 
rapidly. 

Mark  was  turning  his  back. 

As  Edna  had  said,  it  might  be  the  greater  courage. 

There  would  be  no  crisis.  Nothing  had  happened 
and  nothing  would  happen.  A  crisis,  indeed,  must  have 
spelt  disaster,  Sir  Julian  told  himself  mechanically,  all 
the  while  with  a  sense  of  having  somehow  missed  a 
clue.  The  next  moment  he  had  found  it. 

His  original  instinct  with  regard  to  Miss  Marchrose 
had  been  right.  She  had  in  all  probability  known 
whither  she  was  drifting,  and  she  had  been  prepared 
to  face  the  rapids  gallantly.  But  Mark  .  .  .  Julian 
dropped  his  metaphors  and  envisaged  crude  facts  — 
Mark,  after  all,  had  himself  been  responsible  for  the 
determining  factor  that  alone  could  have  vanquished 
her  courage  utterly. 

Fully  alive  to  an  awkward  situation,  Mark  Easter 
had  inevitably  conveyed  to  the  girl,  whom  Sir  Julian, 
more  than  ever,  qualified  as  an  incurable  romanticist, 
the  illimitable  difference  in  their  scales  of  relative 
values. 

And  it  was  that  certainty  that,  reaching  her  in  the 
atmospheric  tension  of  the  last  few  days,  had  defeated 
Miss  Marchrose. 


XIX 

"  YOU'RE  going  this  afternoon,  Mark,  after  all?  " 

"  If  you've  no  objection,  Sir  Julian." 

"  My  dear  fellow,  I'm  always  trying  to  persuade  you 
that  Saturday  afternoon  and  Sunday  were  not  meant 
for  work." 

Mark  laughed,  not  sounding  very  much  amused. 

"  Report  progress  after  you've  got  there  and  let  me 
know  when  you're  likely  to  be  back." 

Mark  nodded. 

Sir  Julian  put  his  hand  upon  the  younger  man's 
shoulder  with  a  gesture  of  intimacy  unusual  to  him. 

"  Don't  hurry  back." 

'  Thanks  very  much,"  said  Mark,  with  equal  brevity 
and  sincerity. 

As  Mark  Easter  went  into  the  estate  office,  whither 
Sir  Julian  had  driven  him,  he  looked  round  with  the 
smile  that,  after  all,  never  altogether  failed  him. 

"  I  might  get  some  good  golf  down  there." 

;<  Yes,"  Sir  Julian  assented  gravely,  after  an  in- 
stant's pause.  "  You  might  get  some  good  golf  down 
there.  I  hope  you  will." 

He  did  not  go  near  the  College  that  morning,  but 
found  himself  wondering  very  much  whether  or  not 
Mark  had  done  so. 

Instinct,  rather  than  conscious  volition,  took  him  that 
afternoon  down  to  the  sea-wall,  to  find  Miss  March- 
rose. 

257 


258  TENSION 

Mark  had  gone,  and  she  herself  would  leave  the  Col- 
lege, probably  before  his  return,  and  Sir  Julian  thought 
that  it  would  not  matter  very  much  now  if  he  offered 
her  such  solace  as  could  be  afforded  by  his  understand- 
ing, complete  as  he  felt  it  to  be,  of  their  wordless 
drama. 

It  was  an  afternoon  of  west-country  weather,  and 
the  very  spray  was  misty  and  soft  as  it  curled  upwards 
from  a  grey,  still  sea.  This  time  there  was  no  high 
wind  to  contend  with,  as  on  the  day  when  they  had 
walked  the  length  of  the  sea-wall,  and  she  had  told  him 
about  her  life  in  London  and  the  story  of  Clarence 
Isbister. 

He  could  discern  her  slim  figure  braced  against  the 
wall  as  he  crossed  the  sand-dunes  and  came  towards 
her. 

When  she  turned  her  face  to  him,  he  saw  with  a 
shock,  that  was  not  altogether  surprise,  that  it  was 
pale  and  blurred  with  crying  and  that  her  eyes  looked 
as  though  she  had  been  weeping  all  night. 

The  faint  elusive  beauty,  such  as  it  was,  had  left  her 
face  altogether;  but  her  voice,  veiled  with  exhaustion, 
retained  all  the  quality  that  gave  it  charm. 

She  said,  with  rather  tremulous  directness : 

"  I  thought  that  perhaps  you'd  come.  I  was  hoping 
you  would." 

"  Then  I'm  glad  I  came,"  said  Sir  Julian.  "  Are 
you  warm  enough,  sitting  here?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  so.     I  don't  want  to  walk,  I'm  tired." 

It  was  obvious  that  she  was  very  much  tired  indeed. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  said  Julian  simply,  and  his  tone 
implied  a  deeper  regret  than  the  compassion  that  he 
felt  for  her  evident  fatigue. 


TENSION  259 

"  You  are  going  to  let  me  talk  about  it  now,  aren't 
you?"  she  asked,  with  a  sort  of  childish  urgency  in 
her  voice. 

"  Anything  you  like,  or  that  is  of  any  use  to  you," 
he  replied  levelly. 

The  necessity  of  self-expression  is  singularly  strong 
in  human  nature.  Sir  Julian  surmised  that  the  only 
outlet  in  the  case  of  Miss  Marchrose's  vehement  and 
highly-strung  personality  lay  in  the  exercise  of  a  certain 
gift  for  elementary  sincerity  that  made  of  her  words 
something  more  than  self -analytical  outpouring. 

"  He  has  gone  away,"  she  said  tonelessly.  "  But 
even  before  he  went  away  I  knew  how  it  all  was.  I 
have  been  the  most  utter  fool.  You  could  hardly  be- 
lieve what  a  fool  I've  been.  You  know  I  told  you  the 
other  day  that  I'd  hardly  ever  been  happier  than  I've 
been  here?  " 

"  I  remember." 

"  Well,  even  then,  I  half  knew  that  it  was  because 
of  him.  And  very  soon  afterwards  I  knew  it  quite. 
And  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  couldn't  stop  myself.  .  .  . 
The  thing  I  cared  about  was  doing  work  for  him,  and 
being  with  him,  and  just  at  first  it  didn't  occur  to  me 
that  it  would  ever  be  anyone's  business  but  mine.  I 
mean,  I  never  thought  that  anyone  would  notice,  or 
that  it  would  matter  if  they  did." 

Sir  Julian  thought  of  his  own  crusade  against  the 
thing  that  he  termed  officiousness. 

"  But  of  course,"  said  Miss  Marchrose,  "  I've  had 
experience  of  business  life,  and  I  knew  that  in  any  of- 
fice, the  —  the  sort  of  things  that  make  talk  can  never 
be  tolerated  for  a  minute.  It's  always  stopped  at  once. 
Generally  they  send  the  woman  away.  And  I  thought 


2<5o  TENSION 

that  very  likely  that  would  happen  to  me,  sooner  or 
later." 

"  And  you  didn't  mind  ?  "    I  understand,"  said  Julian. 

"  No,  I  didn't  mind,"  she  repeated  forlornly  enough. 
"  I  seem  to  have  got  to  a  place  where  I  can't  feel 
ashamed  of  anything  —  otherwise  I  suppose  that  I 
shouldn't  be  telling  you  this." 

"  I  think,"  said  Julian  slowly,  "  that  you  can  put 
that  idea  of  shame  quite  out  of  your  mind.  It  has 
always  struck  me  as  a  very  much  misapplied  emotion. 
There  is  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of  in  anything  that  is 
true.  The  only  thing  that  is  shameful  is  pretence. 
You  are  talking  to  me  now  on  a  plane  where  pretence 
can  have  no  possible  existence,  and  therefore,  if  it  is  of 
any  help  to  you,  go  on  speaking  what  is  in  your  mind. 
I  can  do  nothing  for  you,  but  I  am  here,  and  I  will 
listen  to  you.  And  I  shall  never  repeat  to  any  living 
soul  those  of  your  thoughts  which  you  choose  to  speak 
aloud  in  my  hearing." 

He  leant  over  the  wall,  gazing  with  absent  eyes  at 
the  grey  expanse  of  sea  that  his  soul  loved,  and  re- 
mained immovable. 

"  You're  quite  right,"  she  said,  "  I  want  to  speak 
about  it.  I  do  want  to  speak  about  it.  Rather  like  that 
day  when  I  wanted  to  talk  about  Clarence  Isbister,  and 
you  let  me. 

"  You  do  undersand,  don't  you  ?  I  knew  that  Mr. 
Easter  was  married.  He  told  me  so  himself,  quite 
soon.  And  I  heard  about  his  wife,  a  little,  you  know 
—  from  other  people  at  the  College  as  well.  At  the 
very  beginning  I  was  only  just  sorry,  and  then  I  minded 
very  much,  and  then,  after  a  little  while,  I  thought  it 
wasn't  going  to  matter.  To  him,  you  know." 


TENSION  261 

"  Tell  me  what  you  mean,"  said  Julian  gently. 

"  I  suppose  I  mean  that,  anyway,  it  wouldn't  have 
mattered  much  to  me.  I  know  that  there  are  these 
standards  of  right  and  wrong.  I  was  taught  things  — 
but  I  know  quite  well  really  that  they  wouldn't  have 
weighed  in  the  balance  against  happiness.  I  suppose 
that's  what  is  meant  by  an  unprincipled  person.  Some- 
how I  thought  that  he  was  going  to  feel  like  that  too. 
I  daresay,"  said  Miss  Marchrose,  simply  enough,  "  that 
it  is  because  I  have  never  been  loved  by  anyone  (except 
poor  Clarence,  whom  you  can  hardly  count)  that  I 
thought  that.  Such  little  things  seemed  to  me  to  mean 
a  great  deal.  I  read  indications  into  things  —  you 
know  —  and  all  the  time  they  must  have  meant  nothing 
at  all." 

"  I  don't  think  that  altogether,"  Julian  said,  entirely 
against  his  saner  judgment. 

"  What  do  you  think?  "  she  asked  with  a  kind  of  list- 
less curiosity. 

"  I  can  only  give  you  conjecture.  I  know  nothing 
at  all,  and  you  see,  men  don't  talk  to  one  another,  much. 
In  this  case  especially,  of  course,  I  have  nothing  what- 
ever to  guide  me  but  my  own  conjectures." 

"  Tell  me,"  she  said. 

"  I  think  he  was  very  much  attracted  by  you,"  said 
Sir  Julian,  with  perfect  directness,  and  noted  against 
his  will  the  instant  flush  of  brilliant  colour  that  the 
words  brought  to  her  face. 

"  But  Mark  has  ideals  too,  you  know,  as  well  as 
principles.  If  he  ever  contemplated  eventualities,  he 

knew  that  he  had  no  right  to  ask  you  —  to " 

'  To  ask  of  me  what  I  was  prepared  to  give ;  "  she 
finished  the  sentence  calmly. 


262  TENSION 

"  Do  you  know  what  that  would  have  involved,  al- 
together?" 

"  Perhaps  I  do  and  perhaps  I  don't,"  she  said  in- 
differently. "  The  point  is,  that  I  was  prepared  to  take 
my  risks." 

"  In  any  direction?  " 

"  In  any  direction,"  she  assented,  without  vehemence. 

"  I  see." 

Hers  might  indeed  be  the  daring  of  ignorance,  but 
Sir  Julian  felt  very  little  doubt  that  she  had  spoken  in 
perfect  accordance  with  fact,  as  regarded  her  own 
capabilities.  One  by  one  there  filtered  through  his 
mind,  and  were  rejected,  the  arguments  that  he  knew 
himself  entitled  to  use.  What  of  morality,  of  Mark 
Easter's  work,  of  his  two  children,  of  a  future  grey 
with  unspoken  possibilities  for  themselves  and  for 
others  ? 

Her  reckless  impulse  had  not  been  put  to  the  test; 
would  never  be  put  to  the  test. 

Sir  Julian  let  the  rest  alone. 

"  I  don't  know,  quite,  when  I  first  realised  that  I  — 
I  had  been  making  the  people  at  the  College  talk,"  she 
said,  and  again  she  coloured.  "  It  was  only  a  few  days 
ago  that  it  began,  and  then  I  had  that  horrible  feeling 
that  everything  was  soundlessly  working  up  to  a  crisis, 
and  that  sooner  or  later  something  must  snap.  You 
know?" 

"  Yes,  I  know." 

"  It  was  after  Iris  Easter's  wedding,  I  think.  And 
at  first  I  was  glad  that  it  had  come.  Oh,  you  don't 
know,  you  can't  imagine,  what  fools  girls  can  be. 
How  they  can  imagine  and  fancy  and  plan  things,  till 
it  all  seems  true,  and  they  try  to  go  on  into  real  life 


TENSION  263 

with  the  romance  that  they've  been  living  in  their 
dreams  and  fancies.  And  it  doesn't  come  true.  Mine 
didn't  come  true.  Even  if  I  was  wrong  and  absolutely 
wicked  even  to  let  myself  imagine  what  I  did  imagine, 
it  was  just  as  real  to  me  as  if  things  had  been  all  right. 
It  meant  just  as  much  to  me  as  it  does  to  a  girl  like 
Iris  Easter,  who  knows  that  the  man  she  cares  for  can 
ask  her  to  marry  him." 

"  Perhaps  it  meant  more,"  said  Sir  Julian. 

She  gave  him  a  glance  of  gratitude  out  of  her 
shadow-encircled  eyes. 

"  But  when  the  people  at  the  College  suddenly  began 
to  watch  —  and  talk  —  and  look  at  me  —  then  I 
thought  that  it  was  going  to  —  to  —  well,"  said  Miss 
Marchrose  desperately,  "  to  give  me  my  chance." 

"  Tell  me  what  happened." 

"  Nothing  happened.  Only,  you  see,  at  the  end  of 
twenty- four  hours  I  saw  that  he  was  —  well,  just 
frightened.  He  didn't  want  there  to  be  a  crisis.  He 
never  had  wanted  it." 

Sir  Julian,  who  was  Mark's  friend,  involuntarily 
paid  tribute  to  the  truth  of  her  description.  Mark  had 
been  afraid. 

No  wonder  that  Miss  Marchrose  had  capitulated, 
after  all.  The  citadel  for  which  she  had  been  prepared 
to  stand  siege  had  been  only  the  flimsiest  of  castles  in 
the  air.  The  cause  for  which  she  had  held  that  no  cas- 
ualties could  be  too  heavy  had  no  existence  outside  her 
own  imagination. 

She  spoke  again. 

"  So,  though  I  know  I've  been  crying,  in  a  little 
while  I  shall  be  glad  that  he's  gone.  Nothing  can  ever 
be  worse  than  the  last  few  days.  They're  over  now." 


264  TENSION 

"  They're  over  now,"  repeated  Sir  Julian.  "  Do 
you  want  to  stay  on  at  the  College  next  week,  or  had 
you  better  not  go  back  on  Monday  at  all?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said,  in  a  bewildered  way. 
"  Mr.  Fuller  has  been  extraordinarily  kind  to  me. 
And,  anyhow,  I  shall  be  gone  before  Mr.  Easter  comes 
back.  I  told  him  that  yesterday." 

"  You  saw  him,  then  ?  " 

"  He  came  to  my  office  to  say  good-bye  to  me." 

She  waited  a  little  and  then  said,  with  something  that 
was  half  a  laugh  in  her  voice,  although  the  tears  had 
welled  into  her  eyes  again: 

"  He  said,  '  Good-bye,  Annie  Laurie.' ' 

"  Poor  Mark !  "  said  Julian  in  a  low  tone. 

Presently  he  made  her  walk,  afraid  of  the  sunless 
spring  afternoon  for  her. 

"  Where  are  you  going  to,  when  you  leave?"  he 
asked  her. 

"  London,  I  suppose.  I  can  get  another  post  there 
and  this  won't  affect  my  references,"  she  answered,  un- 
consciously using  Alderman  Bellew's  phrase. 

"  Let  me  know  if  there  is  anything  that  I  can  do  for 
you,"  said  Sir  Julian  rather  hopelessly,  neither  think- 
ing that  there  was  likely  to  be  anything  that  he  could 
do,  nor  that  there  was  much  probability  of  her  apply- 
ing to  him. 

She  made  reply  with  candour. 

"  I  think  you've  done  everything  that  you  can  do, 
Sir  Julian.  I'm  — '-  I'm  not  trying  to  thank  you.  Will 
you  leave  me  here,  when  you  go  back?  " 

"  I  can  take  you  to  the  farm,  or  wherever  you  want 
to  go." 

"  I  would  rather  stay  here  a  little  while  longer,  by 


TENSION  265 

myself.     Then  I  shall  be  all  right,"  she  said,  like  a 
child. 

He  left  her. 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Sir  Julian  to  himself,  as  he  climbed 
the  sand  slopes  with  long  strides,  "  perhaps  I  ought  to 
have  said  '  Good-bye,'  or  '  Remember,'  or  '  God  bless 
you/  or  something  like  that  to  her.  But  whatever  the 
rights  or  the  wrongs  of  her  point  of  view,  her  sincerity 
is  worthy  of  respect.  And  I  will  mock  her  unhappi- 
ness  with  no  catchwords,  poor  child." 

As  he  went  towards  Culmhayes  in  the  gathering  dusk, 
he  met  a  frantically-bicycling  figure  violently  urging 
forward  a  machine  that  was  devoid  of  lights. 

"Fuller!" 

"Sir  Julian?" 

Fairfax  Fuller  came  to  attention,  as  it  were,  with  a 
promptitude  that  nearly  sent  him  over  his  handle-bars 
head  foremost. 

"  You  had  better  not  go  through  Culmouth  at  that 
rate  and  without  a  light,  surely?"  said  Sir  Julian 
mildly.  "  Can  I  give  you  a  match?  " 

"Are  my  lamps  out?"  enquired  Mr.  Fuller  negli- 
gently. 

Sir  Julian  felt  convinced  that  they  had  never  been 
lit,  but  he  handed  the  Supervisor  a  box  of  matches 
without  observation. 

"  Thank  you,  Sir  Julian.  The  fact  is,"  said  Fuller, 
with  an  air  of  candour,  "  that  I'm  upset  and  I  hardly 
know  what  I'm  doing." 

"What's  wrong?" 
'  This  resignation,"  elliptically  said  the  Supervisor. 

"  My  dear  chap,  I'm  very  sorry  about  it,  but  we've 
got  to  make  the  best  of  it.  I've  told  Miss  Marchrose 


266  TENSION 

that  we  accept  her  resignation  from  a  week  yester- 
day." 

Mr.  Fuller  groaned. 

"  May  I  ask,  Sir  Julian,  whether  you  have  any  idea 
where  the  girl  is  now  ?  " 

"Isn't  it  Saturday  afternoon?"  was  Sir  Julian's 
rather  pointed  reply. 

Mr.  Fuller  brushed  aside  this  suggestion  of  the  lib- 
erty of  the  individual. 

"I'm  uneasy  about  her.  I  tell  you  quite  frankly, 
Sir  Julian,  that  I  didn't  like  her  looks  this  morning. 
One  never  knows." 

"  She  strikes  me  as  level-headed  enough,  you  know, 
Fuller." 

Mr.  Fuller  bent  down  and  examined  his  rear  light, 
but  Sir  Julian  knew  very  well  by  the  mere  set  of  his 
shoulders  that  he  remained,  and  would  continue  to  re- 
main, entirely  of  his  own  opinion. 

"  I  think  that's  all  right  now.  Just  as  well  not  to 
run  any  risks,  perhaps,"  easily  observed  Mr.  Fuller, 
once  more  preparing  himself  to  bestride  his  machine. 
"  Good  evening,  Sir  Julian." 

"  Good  evening." 

He  watched  the  red  glimmer  of  Fuller's  rear  light 
shoot  away  into  the  dusk,  and  then  descry  a  sudden 
curve. 

"  By  Jove !  "  said  Sir  Julian. 

Mr.  Fairfax  Fuller,  guided  by  some  unexplained  in- 
stinct, had  swept  away  from  the  road  and  taken  the 
path  that  led  down  to  the  sea-wall.  The  incident,  for 
reasons  which  he  did  not  seek  to  analyse,  rather  amused 
Sir  Julian  as  he  went  on  his  way. 


TENSION  267 

His  thoughts  remained  occupied  round  the  subject 
until  he  entered  his  own  house,  to  find  it  in  possession 
of  the  two  most  unwelcome  guests  possible,  in  the  per- 
sons of  Miss  and  Master  Easter. 

"  Daddy  went  away  at  lunch-time  and  we're  all 
alone,"  proclaimed  Ruthie  with  pathos.  "  And  Sarah 
said,  she  said  —  Sarah  said,  to  come  and  see  if  Lady 
Rossiter  wouldn't  like  to  invite  us  to  tea." 

Sir  Julian  had  his  own  opinion  to  the  amount  of 
liking  bestowed  by  his  wife  upon  the  suggested  festiv- 
ity, but  evidently  she  had  fallen  a  prey  to  Sarah's  un- 
blushing design  for  dispensing  for  a  while  with  the  so- 
ciety of  her  charges. 

"  We'll  all  sit  round  the  table  and  have  nursery  tea," 
said  Lady  Rossiter,  brightly  endeavouring  to  make  the 
best  of  a  situation  that,  from  the  Rossiters'  point  of 
view,  left  much  to  be  desired. 

"  Have  you  any  of  you  heard  from  Auntie  Iris?  "  en- 
quired Julian. 

"  She  wrote  to  Daddy,  and  she  sent  her  love  to  us. 
She  didn't  say  anything  about  that  baby,"  remarked 
Ruthie  in  a  tone  of  regret. 

Sir  Julian  felt  that  Edna  could  have  dealt  with  Miss 
Easter's  tendency  to  call  a  spade  a  spade  a  good  deal 
more  fully  had  he  not  been  present.  He  could  almost 
hear  the  few  strong,  tender  phrases  in  which  she  would 
have  bade  the  child  refrain  from  the  public  considera- 
tion of  such  matters  of  eugenics  as  now  appeared  to  be 
engaging  her  attention. 

Proceedings  varied  but  little  when  Mark  Easter's 
children  were  entertained  at  Culmhayes.  Sir  Julian 
began  by  indifference,  proceeded  to  annoyance,  and 


268  TENSION 

ended  in  a  mood  but  little  removed  from  infanticide. 
Edna  remained  forbearing  throughout,  but  became  less 
maternal  and  more  repressive  as  the  necessity  for  re- 
pressment  increased. 

Ruthie  monopolised  the  conversation  with  as  much 
determination  as  ever ;  Ambrose  whined  quite  as  much 
as  usual,  and  surpassed  himself  in  the  degree  of  stick- 
iness to  which  he  attained;  and  the  seance  ended  with 
the  usual  violent  quarrel  between  the  two  and  their 
eventual  expulsion  from  the  room  and  from  the  house 
—  Ruthie  rampant  and  Ambrose  in  tears  —  and  the 
inevitable  valedictory  wish  expressed  by  the  host  that 
they  should  never  be  permitted  to  return. 

Edna  said,  "  Poor  motherless  children,"  in  a  tone 
that  sounded  rather  more  evidently  exasperated  and  less 
compassionate  than  she  had  intended  it  to  sound,  and 
Sir  Julian  retired  to  the  smoking-room. 

He  remembered  presently  that  Edna  probably  knew 
nothing  of  the  complete  victory  signalised  by  Miss 
Marchrose's  resignation  from  the  College  staff ;  but  he 
realised  that  the  episode,  in  all  essentials,  was  already 
past. 

That  which  he  termed  "  atmosphere  "  was  dissipated, 
and  he  knew  that  it  was  almost  as  an  afterthought  that 
Edna,  that  evening,  asked  him  whether  Miss  March- 
rose  was  going. 

"  Yes,  she  is." 

"At  once?" 

"I  don't  know.  I've  left  her  to  settle  that  with 
Fuller." 

"  She  must  go  before  Mark  comes  back.  It's  far 
better  so." 

"  I  think  probably  she  will." 


TENSION  269 

"  Julian,  I've  been  thinking  about  her.  And  it  seems 
to  me,"  said  Edna,  "  that  we  must  help  her.  God 
knows,  I  can  judge  no  one,  least  of  all  to  condemn,  but 
I  think  that  her  weakness  and  recklessness  are  going 
to  make  life  terribly,  terribly  hard  for  her.  And  I,  for 
one,  can't  see  her  drift  away  like  that  without  one  effort 
to  help." 

The  depth  of  Sir  Julian's  disapproval  for  the  sug- 
gested scheme  of  philanthropy  left  him  bereft  of  speech. 
Finally  he  observed: 

"  In  my  opinion,  Edna,  you  have  done  rather  too 
much  already.  Leave  her  alone." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  Julian,  you  carry  your  mania 
against  officiousness  too  far.  Indeed  you  do.  What 
are  we  here  for,  unless  it  is  to  help  one  another?  " 

Sir  Julian  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  I  knew  the  character  of  this  woman  before  she 
ever  came  here  —  I  couldn't  help  knowing  it  —  I  saw 
her  trying  to  wreck  Mark,  as  she  nearly  wrecked  poor 
Clarence.  I  believe  that  I  have  saved  Mark  —  and  I 
thank  God  for  it,  very  humbly,  and  very  proudly.  As 
for  her,  I  hold  no  brief  against  her.  I  condemn  no 
one,  and  I  seek  only  to  help  her.  ...  If  she  cares  to 
turn  to  me  now,  all  the  love  that  I  can  give  that  poor, 
struggling,  feeble  soul  is  waiting  for  her." 

"  I  don't  think  she  will  ask  you  for  it,  Edna." 

Sir  Julian  thought  of  many  things.  For  a  moment 
he  wondered  whether  he  should  say  them  aloud.  Then 
the  habit  of  apathy  that  had  possessed  him  for  a  num- 
ber of  years  asserted  itself  anew,  and  he  did  as  he 
had  almost  always  done  —  he  left  things  alone. 

The  episode  was  past. 

He  told  himself  so  again,  with  a  faint  sense  of 


270  TENSION 

surprise  that  already  it  should  rank  as  an  episode 
merely. 

There  had  been  no  calamity,  and,  as  Edna  had  said, 
nothing  had  been  put  into  words. 

He  revised  the  collection  of  infinitesimal  ripples  that 
had  momentarily  disturbed  the  atmosphere  common  to 
the  little  groups  of  people  with  whom  he  was  concerned. 

Almost  each  one  had  contributed  vibrations  in  a 
greater  or  lesser  degree. 

Miss  Farmer,  Miss  Sandiloe,  young  Cooper  —  each 
and  all  of  them  had  tittered  a  little,  wondered  a  little, 
talked  foolishly. 

Auntie  Iris  —  for  the  life  of  him,  Julian  could  not 
feel  as  angry  with  pretty,  ridiculous  Iris  as  he  thought 
that  her  folly  deserved  —  Iris,  too,  had  played  out  her 
little  comedies,  her  childish  attempts  at  directing  the 
hand  of  fate. 

Old  Alderman  Bellew  —  Julian  gave  only  an  in- 
stant's half-amused  recollection  to  the  dogmatic  con- 
demnations and  assertions  of  old  Alderman  Bellew. 
He  had  merely  found  it  easy  to  follow  the  lead  given 
him,  after  all. 

On  the  thought  of  Edna's  many  activities  Sir  Julian 
dwelt  not  at  all.  Somewhere  at  the  back  of  his  mind 
lingered  the  echo  of  her  specious  gospel,  her  creed  of 
"  giving  out." 

For  himself,  he  preferred  to  think  that  the  trend  of 
events  had  been  in  no  way  deflected  by  all  that  Edna 
had  done  and  said. 

The  whole  had  been  fated  to  remain  an  episode,  de- 
void of  climax. 


XX 

NEVERTHELESS  the  last  word  remained  to  be  spoken, 
and  it  was  destined  to  be  heard  by  Sir  Julian  when  he 
made  casual  enquiry  of  Fairfax  Fuller  on  Monday 
morning. 

"  Have  you  settled  the  day  that  Miss  Marchrose 
leaves  us?  " 

"  Yes,  Sir  Julian." 

"Well?"  enquired  Sir  Julian,  after  a  moment,  as 
his  subordinate  appeared  quite  indisposed  to  make  any 
further  communications. 

"  She's  not  coming  back  here  at  all." 

"  Is  that  with  your  sanction?"  said  the  surprised 
Julian. 

"  I  talked  it  over  with  her  on  Saturday  evening, 
Sir  Julian." 

"Then  you  did  find  her?" 

"  Down  by  what  they  call  the  sea-wall." 

Fuller,  his  dark  face  marvellously  heated,  looked 
full  at  his  chief. 

"  I've  asked  the  girl  to  marry  me,  Sir  Julian,"  he  re- 
marked. 

Some  weeks  later,  Julian  wrote  a  letter,  and  ad- 
dressed it  to  Miss  Marchrose  in  London. 

My  dear  Pauline  Marchrose, 

Since  you  ask  for  my  opinion,  I  send  it  to  you 
for  what  it  is  worth,  admitting  that,  as  you  say,  I  stand 

271 


272  TENSION 

committed  to  a  certain  degree  of  officiousness  already. 
That,  hoivever,  is  not  the  word  of  which  you  made  use. 
Thank  you,  on  the  contrary,  for  the  expressions  that 
you  have  selected. 

I  am  glad  that  you  are  marrying  Fuller.  He  is  a 
good  fellow  through  and  through,  and  the  other  side  of 
his  bull-dog  tenacity  is  a  very  real  and  dependable  loy- 
alty. I  think  that  that  loyalty  zvill  be  of  great  service 
to  you.  And  don't  think  that  you  are  relinquishing 
the  abstract  ideal  of  which  we  spoke  one  afternoon 
down  by  the  sea-wall.  You  were  never  false  to  your 
standards  for  a  moment,  and  to  recognise  defeat  is 
not  ahvays  an  implication  of  weakness.  It  may,  as  in 
your  case,  denote  the  courage  of  a  perfectly  sincere 
outlook.  Humbug  is  the  only  thing  to  be  afraid  of. 
You  have  eliminated  that,  and  Fairfax  Fuller  is  not 
prone  to  illusion  or  self-deception.  Besides,  your  in- 
tercourse took  place  at  a  time  and  in  circumstances 
which  admitted  of  the  luxury  of  sincerity.  For  that, 
and  for  the  fact  that  Fuller  knows  something  of  the 
extent  of  his  incredible  good  fortune,  I  send  you  my 
congratulations  and  I  wish  you  luck. 

Sir  Julian  paused  for  a  long  while. 

The  episode  was  over.  His  letter  was  a  postscript 
merely. 

"Are  you  coming  upstairs,  Julian?"  said  Edna's 
most  forbearing  tones,  full  of  fatigue. 

"Is  it  late?" 

"  It's  nearly  twelve.  It's  the  servants  that  I'm 
thinking  of.  I  hate  keeping  them  up." 

"  It's  quite  unnecessary  to  keep  any  of  them  up.     I 


TENSION  273 

am  perfectly  capable  of  putting  out  the  lights  in  the 
hall  without  Horber's  assistance." 

"  I  shall  not  ring  for  Mason.  I  never  do  ring  for 
her  if  I'm  later  than  eleven  o'clock.  After  all,  it's  a 
very  little  thing,  when  once  one  realises  that  a  maid  is 
a  sister-woman,  when  all's  said  and  done.  .  .  ." 

All  was  so  far  from  being  said  that  Julian,  taking 
up  his  pen  again,  slowly  added  the  final  sentence  to  his 
letter,  unconsciously  adjusting  his  speed  to  words  that 
struck  upon  his  hearing  and  penetrated  hardly  at  all 
to  his  thoughts. 

"  I  believe  so  much  in  little  things,  in  the  immense 
power  of  a  thought,  of  a  kind  glance,  of  a  smile  .  .  ." 

//  the  Colonial  scheme  materialises  rapidly,  as  I 
think  it  will,  I  shall  send  Fuller  out.  It  is  largely 
owing  to  his  management  that  we  have  the  funds  in 
hand  to  extend  the  branches  of  the  College,  and  I  can 
see  both  you  and  him  as  pioneers,  in  the  near  future. 

"  Sometimes  I  think  that  when  one  has  not  received 
very  much  oneself,  it  only  makes  one  readier  to  give. 
One  knows  the  lack " 

Keep  up  a  very  good  courage  —  but  that  I  believe 
you  will  always  do.  You  have  got  your  scale  of  rela- 
tive values  clear,  and,  once  that's  done,  you  can  afford 
to  accept  truth.  Nothing  else  matters. 

"  Perhaps  one  would  be  less  tired  at  the  end  of  the 
day  if  one  gave  out  less,  but  after  all,  it's  all  part  of 
the  great,  wonderful,  Divine  plan." 


274  TENSION 

"  Have  you  finished  writing,  Julian  ?  '  Jorrocks  '  is 
on  the  table." 

"  Yes,  quite  finished,"  said  Sir  Julian,  and,  first 
signing  his  name,  he  sealed  his  letter. 

Cornwall,  Jan.,  1919. 
Surrey,  June,  1919. 


THE   END 


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